The hen and her chicks

I love a good flower.
No hot summer, sweet season
tongueless thinking months
the three then fattening sap
drops and weeps and dries.
Two vulvas intertwine,
two fall like wrapping paper
to kids and to kids the sap
weeps on their mouths,
marks them its, marks them
playing on their heads.
What is there but fleece
coated in unrotting honey,
drenched in a girl’s sex,
smelling of earth, and goes
down to any willing hand
to dry on or drink in?

Advertisements

~ by Jeremy on February 5, 2011.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: