Even though I call him my sun-tanned god;
As he laughs and skates on the waves,
I slaughter him in my mind,
A ghastly howl of the knife,
A trickle of the divine
To bring together in my mind
Some semblance of sex and death —
I do this, I think,
Because am I a neurotic? —
many would agree.
Only because they do not allow such cruel thoughts.
But it is the only way to rid him from the contours:
the image in my mind that sticks,
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Apr 6, 2010
I am an educator and a writer. I was born in Louisiana and I now live in the Big Apple. My heart beats to the rhythm of "Ain't No Place to Pee on Mardi Gras Day". My style is of the hot sauce variety. I love philosophy sprinkles and a hot cup of café au lait.