Thursday, November 6, 2008

Ethereal Beauty #6

My Love lies over the cold prone ocean;
I ejaculate a spiralled brocade
Of tainted flies over paper hole punches.

Leprous verse crowds my colouring book.
The vagabond whisperers, with plots, cook.

One-way hopes never collide, but encrust
Misgivings into harsh filaments
That rake my impetigo in gross whorls.

Pallid rhyme infests my colouring book.
Three thousand hands-on judges call me ‘schnook’.

Clearing-house bordellos of soft-core schmaltz
Reel in millions. I thought I was ‘Prince’,
But they popped turds of every joker, fool.

I put down my bird-sprayed colouring book.
I have the poetic wiles of a crook.

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