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second poem from the Love Machine

January 26, 2010


Beneath love is an uncompleted face,

bearded and pale, with one glaring eye

and a sketched-in eyebrow – the space

where the second eye should be

is occupied by my pounding heart.

My hand touches the breast or the bottle –

reaches for things which are brought to the mouth.

Gasping and sucking I bite at your nipple and claw

at your breast. The oral sadistic impulse is shared by both of us.

You are my passion – or one of them!

I release the snake, wipe the blood from my arm,

chest and knee, and jump into the taxi.

The women are lunatic and beg me

to desist from such activities lest I die.

But, of course, I don’t!


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