Walking vests bulked around me
with meals for grins and saccharine breasts
are like felt on my eyelids
when I taste the pails, sopping and ripe;
synonymous trees in name, as they solder my lips
in the virginity of a woman sewn.
she who is a roach, a hysterical cub of Electra,
who sees a womb as a General,
accelerates the messy soils
of an adult in sense but not in need.
Knock-knee'd and devestated, I rise my scorpion head,
for I have wandered stupid
and as such an arid Nimrod, bruised, empty,
but whistling for my corpse to ignite
a map like a lover's will;
Neglected, I spiral every breath like a foetus.