I take back what you have stolen and in your languages I announce I am now nameless.
My true name is a growl.
Margaret Atwood

10 April 2018

oh sweet Venus

oh, the things she does with bacon
it's sizzled to perfection,
fat crisp but soft, meat cooked tender
separated from the bone
Canadian raised, borne of the loins
bounteous hog
salt scented strip teasing
slabbed on a cookie sheet
pan-ting for the taste, it's an evangelical I swear oh my god
- it's not Jesus, but
I swear, staring me right. there. in the rosy cheeked face
grease, slick to the fingers juice, this vision
this embrace of two fusing as one
all mother of tongues
oh for the love of God jesting
Goddess blessing
Rorschach roaring
image enshrined
I am coming undone
a coral pink food-ink butterfly labia


after: Real Toads:  poems in April: the Tuesday Platform


  1. I love this!!! I am so crazy impressed with your work, every single time.

  2. if not Jesus, then a Freudian image is a close bet for second.

  3. Replies
    1. sometimes, you just gotta laugh the absurdity of the cosmic coincidences and chuckle for it


thanks for sharing your thoughts, I greatly appreciate it.