13. Epiphany
None but the lonely god
knows what I suffer,
alone, an alienate,
once merry scatterer
of seed, once whistling drafts
man, once humming ether fuck
er, now reduced, reduced,
reduced, humbled, even, to
the kid with the best
new toys on this or an
y other block wait
ing for maya-drugged
playmates to come
by. No wonder we
can't decide if our
playpen's two or ten
or thirty some odd bill
ion years old.
Dew-spewing cock
iridescing cunt
both've forgot
what
they're here for.
No wonder. Why,
lame does stumb
le tonight in for
ests known only to
mass retailers of
unicorn horns
and Double-Bubble
bubble gum, and fall
newly clumsy in
their lethal Bam
bi flight before
the hungry fire
of this horny heart.
