Rorschach’s semen

What do you see?

A palimpsest of my organic chemistry.
Swelters in heat, shivers in none, like yours.
I killed my first goat at fourteen,
and boy, I couldn’t stop. Sex addiction, poor me,
I was held in a frenzy. Years later I was gelded.
Old man he had a thing against freethinking.
Talked about that interminable bourgeoisie.
Yelled at mom, who had arthritis that somehow
scurried through her face when I asked her.
You know. About the important things.
Like what? You know. Important things.

As always, italics indicate the adoption of a character’s voice.


~ by Jeremy on June 7, 2012.

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