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Spark In A Cesspool
Sully your blank pages with obscene grace
With fevered imagination with verbal cattleprods
With blatent philosophy meekly abhorrant visions
Of fragrant cruel lies of asphyxiating truths
Carry the screms inside your heart to fester
And ferment until they ripen into foul verse
And until the stubble of a poem grows thick
On your public face on your devil's tongue
Fully expose yourself to the fatal doubt that flows
Over pages of our bloody yesterdays always in debt
Over braced confused sensitive gawkers-at-art
Until your wrists bleed odes forever into the void
Wary of blissful empty verse you spin mutilated words
Onto your canvase of degradation and mirth
Onto the cheeks of deaf rose angerchildren
For nothing explodes as well as inkstained ghosts
