hellsforheroes

I apparently ate ribs for dinner
the taste of a barbecued bone
marrow yawning, keratin charred
the flesh a babys innocent smile.

Oh the sugar tastes so genuine
slathered a bit tomato, and piquant
a zip of charcoal, carbon burning
carbon from Adams belly, garden.

Like a shank, of a twist
a lamb loin carved with psychotropic mint jelly
salvation for Mexicans, and Brazilians slicing
carcasses paraded and leistered with savage grapes.

Oh my gravitons of wind, meek like the earth.
So tiny like lambs eyes, ogling furred goats
God getting bored.
Yeah you look, like, you, sheep, goats.

Oaks and Maples, Indica, Sativa
photosynthesis, sensing us, beyond us
responding to us, living with us
dying to prepare us, for tomorrow.

Eve will betray me
feed me womens devilry
children, heirs and mothers
cannibalism of anti-matter and matter.

Highly excited, like god, and stem cells.
Its all the same, my rib, her tit.
Her vagina.
My soul.

I ate Calvin Klein
And the youth of the ewe-th.
Save me god, anyone
seriously.

Its two clicks to Che
and some kind of dead utopia
with emotional bullets
too caught in self to save anything.

Write.
A book.
About bones
inside of Mary.

God damn she is a cunt.
Rarely, I see mellifluously
Into hell.
The barbecue in my yard.

Or into space
Or think of so much mass
held by an eyelash
the kiss of pens bigger than swords.

I know you all want tennis
balls and nets of black holes
nothing escaping but my senses
an earth, blessed with dogs.