Shall I compare this father's form to a
patriarchal conceit? Say "his hand tells"
and you either lie or love enemas.
....But perhaps hear siren swells and church bells-
"A blinding flash ends in a thunderclap"-
Tremored Weapons plays sword as really sheath
then bores sword to sword-spills youthful sap.
If a woman, to deflower the wreath;
with man-seems no increase; but between breasts
blooms the mean; A flower a heart- the heart
the flower- given so first we think blest.
'Til midsummer when love's pull gives a smart.
Now the choice: awake or be forgotten.
Conceive the sexes or be the fallen.
No comments:
Post a Comment