In the ocean of the East I
stalk Shellback's winter & purchase
,grass my solitary thoughts
about his fallow ache.
dhows turnturvy in the eye's tide
& my fingers on the sun's lute
,calloused by the ash that from
a white sky falls in the dead.
dust our thoughts to niggerhunt dry sex
& pimps prodding their fish for sail
where the town's ruttish sisterhood
whisper themselves in the dead.
come on down if you're randy...
there's frolic enough within
Shellback banged his ragged worm there
& hugely craked his hardy seed —
bellbacked, hatchetfaced wreck,
was my own snatch. I screwed
her only to howl in her paunch
where trod the final Unhatched
grieving werewolf of the womb.
delivered act & deed
for his summer's turn in the dead
before the sunstroked she
the whalebone god still she waits
shelltracked to rage five moons
high & couple herself complete
his horn through the ironcst stays
to her loves in the dead
;its goatlegs clapped over
this last hellshacked grotesque of Now,
her quick self swansung of Leda
the bearded vulture beats his
wings desperate at the scar