Thunder-Smitten

                         i.

M    outhfuls of you summoned, the whole
    hum of him sweating into some
echoing song unhinged hymns want,
swallowing becomes necessary

to feed, indecencies become
deviantly wound ’round the soul
spitting out of what went on when
the city’s lights went out, this brief

acquaintance of that man without
a heart with my throat, the result
some poem choking another bold
book the way memory thrusts, haunts

against the stone of its tomb, holds
until collapsing relapse taunts

                         ii.

to full blush this corpse flower’s cold
wilting flourish, kills my love with
what lust nourishes, arrogant
as fuck, moment that quotes only

itself, fills an empty room with
enough attitude those who scroll
will read it, will experience
their own breakthrough, fond memory

fosters deeper ache, so grab tools,
build a tomb that isn’t a grave
anticipating not total
annihilation, per se, gaunt

decay, perhaps, charcoal alms bowl
rimmed resonant with his absence.