The vandal womb

Also entitled: A cog between peoples

You, the din of industrial gnaw
you left in my ear,
you the manifested ugly,
you half of the twin slain by
you and the humping ilk
you broadcast into ovens
you did not choose to thrust in,
you liking instead crusts of so-old men.
You the whine of brazen children,
you cared at only one ovum
you did not descend how
you descended into my cavern &
you finally own a cathedral inside
you will monitor til to molder and die.

You took a pearl two-eyed
you made yourself and into
you it went and burned, like
you rubbed my face in grit
you called the philosophy of fires bright:
you knew, you knew and didn’t
you also take my only son into
you and the burly flames you blew?
You, a nutrient, the calories
you raised by drought’s Persephone
you talked to, and baby harpy
you shrieked to it back at me while
you were wild as the living son you grew.
You two-faced demons you and you that
you spun twice to my grimaced jaw fat.
You who dies at noon when I consider you,
you who wolfed my many loving molecules.

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~ by Jeremy on March 17, 2011.

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