Jason wrote this poem for his father after he passed away.
I smell your desire
Inhaling your breath
As our tongues touch then embrace
And I reach downward
Smoothing the warm mist of perspiration
Over the tingling hairs of your navel
You rise suddenly and
Your arrow pricks my finger
Leaving a single drop of sticky sweetness
On my throbbing fingertip
My nipples are racing
To escape their bindings
I feel my thighs trembling
My stomach tightens
I am clenching
Moist, warm, and waiting
Engorged with the thrill
Of your immanent entry
Maneuvering my hips over yours
Freeing my full breasts
And cupping them
Into your face
Biting, teasing, nibbling
A direct nerve
Between my bosom
And maidenhead
I feel your arrow tapping
Ready to accept my invitation
I am so swollen it aches
Engorged to the edge of ecstasy
Breath held for a moment
My lips part in anticipation
Then the tip barely probing
I feel myself spreading slowly
You gliding gently, firmly in
In...
In...
Deeper,
Slowly,
Ever deeper
Until I can hardly -
Your
Arrow
Plunges
Deeply
Into
My
Open
Heart
...and I gasp as I teeter on the brink
and you retreat
then stab again
and again
and I die a little
again
and again
Until I break open
Gushing love from my legs
in a torrent release of rapture
flowing down the creases of our bodies
into rivulets over the sheets
Fatal Personality
An overgrown embryo naked in a
field
She pretended she was dead
Telephone booth, lost hair
"I'm cold," she cried
Adult Attention Deficit Syndrome -
Look at me, look for me, who cares about me?
Do you?
Care about yourself?
THINK!
You are ridiculous. Face it.
Take responsibility sisters.
I reserve the right to refuse
redemption to any one.
You must redeem yourself.
Don't cry May Day to me!
Survive your Winter and celebrate Rebrith.
No more hibernation - no more
avoiding
You are in control
and always were...
Take your lashes -
Batting them won't save you now
You've got it coming to you
Take it and run with it
...and stay away;
I don't need it.
Astrologie
Finally, we have broken open-
The redshift has overtaken gravity's rainbow-
And I'm looking through you, through your window>
We are Siamese supernovas
Conjoined in all the ways:
Perpetual motion,
Cold fusion.
Twin suns ebbing and regenerating
Like the twin flames of Alpha Centauri.
Binary. Finally. Geotropism.
0 and 1
1 and 0
My carnally intoxicated angel:
Astrologie.
Sun and Moon, now.
Another binary combination.
Sometimes, there is never forever:
Other times, that's all there is.
Astrologie:
Looking through your window, I see:
The cosmos,
The chaos of commingling emotional energy-
These parts that are beyond decay: beyond hurt, beyond
fear.
Oneness. No more binary.
I see the repetition of nebulae...
Spiraling arms of the infinite...
Electro-magnetic spectrum: black holes, white dwarves,
red giants>
The birth and rebirth timed to the expansion of star
canopies,
Ever billowing on silent solar breezes-
Beyond and beyond...
Unknowing and unknowable,
Yet instantly comprehended:
By us alone.
Conglomerate
I.
Needless to say, they are very tight.
Perhaps the bathroom door,
The art is to conceal the art.
I'm not just fucking around here, do you hear me?
The synthetic fundamental modes are given below.
In 972, the menace from the East was still a
particularly vivid memory:
BIZARRE SHOCKING TRUE;
father F: "Well, this is unusual, your honor."
son S: "What does this mean?"
FREE.
II.
Extra...
The Awakening sting.
Starless. Red. Fracture.
Attempted Not Known.
Moved.
508279271-85-3-555-WX
Prepare
The functional analysis of pseudo-passives of all types
have
<<peinture>>
7034548-MSP-I3;
I float alone of the broken hearted MO. I, featuring:
Clamor - the black sea of the dream conversation that
steer carefully;
Tree in opaque thinned to a more liquid consistency of
Diminished needle.
"...Pick-up...shock waves...judge...continuous
play/metal...
AS-9194-L,
Merchandise stop: 000."
III.
Part-time Black Suede.
20 FFB.
Musk - only.
Papillion
I can feel you
spinning around in my hemoglobin.
My ingestion of you has fused our DNA in an act of
Endo-cannibalism:
You are my own private virus.
Thoughts of you are contagious---
They infect all of my grey matter:
Spreading like guitar feedback--
Sounds, smells, visions, touches.
Pure energy-sine waves.
Desire, tenderness, non-verbal expression>
There, yet not.
Your lips of velvet-
Red and ripe-
Your paper skin-
Flushed by excitement:
You feel like gossamer to me.
You hide your wings, but I sense them;
I have my own that I can't show yet.
I.
I have thought,
Many times
On passing that horrid place,
Of burning it to the ground.
Today,
I saw the burly men on
Their smoke breaks:
Joking outside in the cool grey
Afternoon -
Their heavy rubber boots glistening,
Their white hard hats spattered
With offal and gore.
Today,
I passed the patient, slow-moving
Truck/hearse -
Replete with its living cargo;
The girls with their ears tagged looking at me
With rheumy, soft, saucer eyes -
Full of sadness and knowing...
The old-timer driving the hearse
Is oblivious to my
Hate-filled stares as I pass him -
Midway Meats of
Centralia, Washington
He recedes from my
Rearview,
Like living memory on this
Cold day;
It seems some places are colder
Still...
Five miles later,
I pass once again the
Ramshackle abattoir,
And pray that when the girls
Arrive that the end is
Quick.
Coup de grace.
II.
"We can only do what we can do;
Those are the types of men who
Rape their wives and beat their
Children, but they only work there.
They don't really run the
Show -
The bean-counters do.
When there's no money to
Be made, it will stop."
"I doubt the bean-counters
could stomach that job..."
III.
Violence begins at home.
Movies don't cause mayhem -
Murder was well established
Before the advent of
Celluloid:
Cain needed no prodding.
Blame the T.V. all you want -
But children imitate their
Parents, not the tube.
Too many guns, too many drugs,
Enormous ennui -
The Dumbing Down of America -
All play their part.
Say what you will,
But for a twist of fate
You could have been born a
Cow, or a pig, or a chicken, or a
Fish;
Truth be told:
It all begins at the
Dinner plate...
And the promise or heartache of
Your favorite dish...
What will we do
When the only thing
Left to eat is each other?