No Second Whispers

I.

I cut out your inner leviathan
transferring glassy grains
of my tyrannical
auric blasphemy,

another grinning dybbuk
licking sulfuric embellishments
castrated from your hierarchy
of disheveled grace-

save your pristine face
from an onslaught
of Arcadian sacramental waste
dripping inner-dimensional peccadillos.

II.

I cleanse,

my temple of torture
with the swarthy glint
of tainted diamonds...

seeping from carcinoma capillaries
face-fucking gluttonous pits
who yearn too devour
my flammable seed;

ahhhhh.....

to delve and dine
on illustrious greed,

my little queen bee~

pollinate infinite chaos
with rubicon burps
of Gehenna manna
travesties,

as I eat your simper
while you....wink at me.

III.

A Arc de Sant Martí,

bleeds into faux dreams
of broken banshees
who have yet to breathe
betwixt the reed of a scream;

stinging trickled bleats
that fall from snickers
of a hermaphroditic leech....

wear this sin as a clumpy pearly
glob of rambunctious little djinn's,

I leapt to my death
before I came inside
her velvet mausoleum;

that place wear rogue blips
peek through slimy lips
delivered as another cloned
Erewhon rib
into this commode
of avarice predilection-

flushed through sooty grins.

Come back again?

IV.

Fuck that,

I'll rack and decapitate my hubris
for trying to latch on a pipe chimera
that cataracts the golden rule
concordat.....

christened as a walking tomb,

that we all bloom~

when we help the wrong hominoid
climb rungs on a ladder fillet the seriate
hatching fusiform chatter;

still......stung as a sprung expunged
parrot of a mimicry shadow brigade

no depth rests in pallid flesh-

when they become just another harbinger~

scratching the scrotum
of comatose stars.

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WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
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