“I have suffered the Ain Soph Aur, / my mouth’s like an open sore, all over / you & it glows, it glows with his residue, / no saint…”

“Nobody has politically correct fantasies, / beauty balances strength and victory, // we are the dead leaves, pages torn from the book of life and / thrown farthest…”

“Words are what we do and making / do with them is the closest we / can come to truth, suicide at / dawn in a third-rate hotel…”

“It’s a PEP (o)rally as I do(w)n my / phylactery, ready my Self daily to / enter him, buried as I am in / his memory, the inner…”

“History is a victim, a snuff film / still reeling from the width of its / distribution, a rough cut killing its // portrayal of lies worth living…”

“Out of time, out of place we mistake our / folding of the same hymn sheet of horrors / for courage emboldening our souls to / take on…”

“The mouth of your cup had all the receptivity / of infinity, a winking galaxy smiling // at me, licking the rim you made of my love…”

“What the sell-out sold us turned my / intent into symbols, shit into gold, / negative thoughts into positive, saw / the deep, trawled obscene depths and hauled…”

“We’re not going to fit, I’m a puzzle / who’s never at peace, this is as / good as it gets or ever will be, go / in…”

“The next time I neck, I hope it’s / really slow like a worn-out V.H.S.— / lust is a jade panther prowling / my mind, standing in the…”