Getting laid in Eden

You are doomed to knowledge,
says Tertullian high on opium—
once weekly he flays the flowers—
you are doomed to know you die,
and you too are an animal—
drooling he wipes his mouth
on his cloak, spits, hacks—
you are born in your solitude,
like a dumb cave mole—
mortal coils indeed, and
you will count your days—
his face flesh pales, blushes—
you—how exult the condemnation!

And his interlocutor (you or me
or any body) with goodly gashed
mouth replies, no! I too will see
in Galilee a corpse, and unburied,
it will turn into a stone in my pocket—
Tertullian! How foolish is a man
who condemns his own species!
The sexual impulse, once freed,
defies any mortality—spares,
indeed, any thought of a morrow
where hence the children gallop
on too-strong legs unbent and bellies
like baskets—fattened humanity!

~ by Jeremy on June 20, 2013.

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