sucking his feet like cock
i am not supposed to write this kind of juicy cock poetry because there are children around on the planet like flies/ we are required to dumb down reality for the mommies and the children always someone else’s children with the birthday cakes and pink balloons/ these people make me break out in sweating hives/ i prefer the sanctuary of the bitter ones/ the drunk ones who have dissolved to zeros, the older ones who drive cadillac convertibles at the speed of light and whose buttcracks smell like the scent of distant hills/ just roll me another joint/ meanwhile, he puts his socks outside on the fence/ like a flag for the faithful/ his filthy feet and tombs in my mouth/ the songs of voyages as if some beast to swallow whole/ omnipotence with a fire permit/ whose hollow tongue, a diminishment of limbs, in that cup of bloodroot dark, your converts never sleep/ we are only here where stars and summer’s ground gives way to wounds, and your feral cock weeps soft like water and your feet are adorned with conquest/ the fence itself has no oath to break/