On my desk, lies a flayed pig.
Among cerulean fires I see quivering steaks, and sliced breasts.
— Frightful phalluses soar in the air ; streams of blood splatter the atmosphere.
In sun’s hollow a vulva glows, strange crack, stuffed with gold and bright blue.
On white bed, lies a pig’s head — Fresh lips blooming on cream and strawberry, and the taste of death.
A huge carnage erupts in my head — In my dreams I hear the ruddy laughter of eleven gutted girls — blank rage — sensory blast — when I sleep I often have my throat cut — in heavens I see slaughtered oxen and thick pale boobs full of pulp.
In moon’s hollow an anus gleams, stuffed with silver and gutted dreams.
Wide creamy hips among meringue and cherry, and pork tongue — high lactescent butts in filmy night, and spurts of lunar cum.
The moon swells and bursts, milk springs and spreads — in white sky, I see the carmine meat of sixty thousand boneless nymphs.
Through celestial darkness now appear quivering rump steaks, and sliced livers.
On my desk, lies a butchered girl.
of flayed oxen
glowing in broken sensory flows
streams of beheaded redheads
pouring in the gray sluice of my torn skull
six hundred cold knives standing up in lunatic sheaves through the fiery dawn
flood of tender thighs
milky blindness around morning light
and my brains
unctuous atrocious brains
licking the blade of tenderness
Hanging on the solar hook
of blind limpid sky,
a huge flayed ox
Eleven bikini nymphs
under the red rain
Dionysus snatches his heart
and throws it to the Maenads of the Web.
A juicy redhead
shits her milk
on the slaughterhouses
The ax of Aesthetics
falls down on a nightclub
full of round skinned thighs …—
In my bed,
a huge flayed ox
crushing the tender breasts
of my slashed milky girl.—
lights up in azure.
Earth cries her paranoid sap.
Poetry is slicing the thighs of tenderness.
the fluffy hole of anal roar.
my phallic skull
the sensorial immanence
sweet milky massacres
burning streams of silence.