[to those who are my Muses]
Confiscate my laptop if you must.
Remove blank pages by the ream from my reach.
Break my pencils, or drain my pens of their ink.
Give me no medium for communication: the
one-party state is a one-party party---
Lenin understood that, and his sons are not absent.
Use your extreme powers of coercion
against this perceived subversion.
All those young men who are my multiple Muses
will, with sighs of relief, slip off their shoes
beneath certain tables in their high school's library.
Barefoot, or sock-sheathed, and carrying said shoes,
they will walk to their suburban homes. And if their
parents and siblings are conveniently absent,
these beautiful, long-haired young men---
varsity athletes and myopicc bookworms---
will reject all societal expectations,
imposed upon them with penalties of damnation.
Thinking of each other, or of other young men they desire,
they will also hear these words, and summon the urges
which will launch their core-confected sweetness,
manifested as simultaneous ejaculations
brought, after the most sensual foreplay, to completeness.
J-Called