El Dorado * * * * it was cruel the way you dove into my arteries, those rivers of red mud which propel strange men in wet droves like hustlers to my heart drinking a flood * * * where men thirst i bleed like a torn lampshade in an operating room where the light is not brilliant but it’s something you need el dorado is my name and my eye’s a tomb * * can you find me? does the length of my corridor entice? nazi boots blacken my body as we all dance the dance of the well-to-do on black ice * Share:ShareClick to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on Skype (Opens in new window)Click to share on Telegram (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) Related May 1, 2012October 31, 2012 Categories: Poetry