Poem 126: An evening of slaughter

bunny rabbit guts
show silvery in moonlight
filling shallow pit

Poem 124: To one whom I may have frightened: DRAFT

How about this:

If I was staring at you
like a hungery bird
I am sorry
I didn't know what I was doing
and could not help it
you are such an exquisite
freak monster of nature
?

Poem 123: Ogre

to the ogre
broken hearts
taste like froot loops

dreams are like
cotton candy
which he quite likes

vermin, which make him shiver,
look like
poets :  "where do they even
come from?"
he says to his wife

who is made out of broomsticks
and balloons
she commits suicide daily
and daily is brought back to life
to care for their fucktuplets

but the main thing he does
is run his mouth:
guglelly
gah gah gah
harh harh blegg gah
gubelly

Poem 122: Andronikos

somewhere in the Cardinal's letters
is the description of me
which overtook me on the way to Paris, a directive
most dire, a warning to all that I was not to be

welcomed, sheltered, employed in any degree
for I was a monster of nature, with many an adjective
somewhere in his letters is that description of me

i don't blame him. it was 1453
i was a mess. my Latin unreflective
most dire, a sign to all i was a refugee

a condition with which I did not agree
my behavior in Rome was hyper-expletive
cf., somewhere in his letters, the Cardinal's description of me

i went  then to northern Italy
fated to write my Brescian Invective
most dire, an insult to all in that city

when They let me out of jail finally
i was hitting my stride, most effective
somewhere in the cardinals letters that description of
me most dire,
to paris and beyond preceding me

Poem 121: The last square dance

Swing your partner ‘round and ‘round,

And turn your corner upside down.

And turn your corner like swingin’ on a gate,

And meet your partner for a grand chain eight,

And hurry up boys and don’t be --

                                                                aw fuck it.

Poem 120: grail

the faceless fish arose before me in dream
his featureless brow
in full mucous coat
that was almost death to behold

what is the secret of the grail? he said.
whom does it serve?

and i was afraid

i've failed you, My King

Poem 119: Mummy

now more than ever seems it rich

to be an everlasting mummy

in a gorgeous manner

to rule over my cats

in the dark

bathed in the deep, blind un-gleaming gold
that sleeps with me

to ride my boat of sleep

in the moonlit nightmares

of alcoholic bitches everywhere

and to keep my guts in separate jars

but it is not yet time