As of late
I am making love
to Anne Sexton

Dribbling
over the breasts
of Sylvia Plath

Enticed by
our similar
stung seperations
of lonleyness

trashed

These ladies
and I

our naked
and hate it

downing out
craving comfort

as most do
at last
most
mercy be
too late
when

Searching
for some form
of holiness
in
all of this
greatness

touching skins
mashed

caught up
in a flash

I fast

sitting on top
of a hi-atus

moved

I crash

the real
surreal
reality

(reel)
real-all-to-see

at last

a bomb grows
inside of me

the wrong blast

replacing a
vigorous heart

heated from brash

Burn't to it's crisp

I confetti the ash

i think i like it

kinda jim carroll-ish

interesting

Minus Carroll's heroin addiction. the truth be told of Sexton and Plath, "Those are people who died" lol!




Thanks for the replies scotty and dark.

awesome very very good

keep it real