Sometimes after I have a bucket full of coffee and red wine (I call it "colon pepper"), I indulge in the finer things...eggs, chemistry, scented candles, horse tails...and even literature. Often times, after reading Little Critter's First Shave, I feel provocative enough to write something of my own. And, since I've already written several short stories about me shaving myself, I've branched off into other artistic mediums. Recently, I wrote a poem, and I would like to share it with you:
You Are My Crypt, Inflame My Soul
Don't decay, darling.
Live on like the embalmed Latino women
in my neighborhood.
Absorb my rapture and let me dine
in your coffin.
If our love is paradise then my heart is satin.
And if we don't make it to heaven,
let us shock the souls of Limbo.
Sinless infants will dance
above Purgatory,
shaking the chandeliers of coping families,
so they won't forget us
like the embalmed Latino women in my neighborhood.
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