Flowers for K

Bitch.
Die, wont you?
I die and die
For your dead precious heart.
Your gloom,
Another lackluster rejoice,
Half-mocking, scolding rejoinders
Bounced across the ether-high sky.
Scorn to dystopists
In their drab plastic flyover traps.
Have not an uncynical smile.
Hate men.
Dream not.
Dream never!
I'll dream and pull you in.
We'll fuck at ground zero.
Apocalyptic protocol.
1950 din.
Grind radioactive ash
Into your split quivering slit.
My ass flashing white
In the watchman's
Glass seeing eyes.
Altitudinal detonation.
A disintegrating mushroom sigh.

Die!
Won't you die?
I die.
I rot
In the warm shadow's gloom.
Come to you as I did
Promising that
Saintly sadist's
Suture scripted end.
Sade, I said,
Your eyes rolling high
To the sun-seeking leaves,
Sensing pop-culture droll,
Seeing not the scribbling genius
In his fecal French hole.
But I pour my philosopher's heart
Into your lust-slitting eyes,
-Blood of the hero's love
Streaked across the fair darling'g backside-
And find the smile
In the sting of your nail-chiselled poem.

I rot!
Pale,
Like Nevada Grounds-of-Proof noon.
And still you linger,
While my ghost groans through the earth,
Longs to animate a finger
That might snake it's way
Into the wet nestle
Of my once
Ever-dreaming day.

Shun my gag-worthy scent.
Hide your nasopharynx glands
Behind your flower-draped tent.
Cling hard your
Live luscious warmth,
With the rigor
Of your ever-loving Mort.
Suck my cold.
Melt the hot knot
Of your nauseous, acidic fear.
My hard grisly romance
Screams
Whispers
Amidst the rustling leaves trees.
Desperate for you to hear.
Longing to fill your need.
Moaning to your hot blood.
Slice and shred.
Grit those gleaming,
Flesh-greedy teeth,
And set the crimson flow free.
Drape your dread red curtain
Across the hideous gray frost
That grows to bloat
And burst the cells called me.

Die, darling.
Die.
I wait.
Drive not my desperate, frenzied ghost
Into the swirling,
Infinity shaped universe
Named Hate.