Ostentatio Genitalium

                             i.

Be Catholic. Do damage.
(A thrown shape says, unprompted,
unaided.) Messianic,
secret. Estranged from pages.

Blankest-faced as feet erased
from the metric. Re-versed vs.
‘Litigious’ as epithet
fits the newly nameless. Nude,

delicate, deliberate,
and nuanced, tragicomic,
big dick—I’m the demon in
the triangle’s mirror. (Yes.)

Orgiastic & explicit,
can you exorcise this?

                             ii.

(I’m not a saint, I can’t bi-
locate, this ain’t the way I
vibrate, Babe!) Foregoing those
haloes, thrown throughout a throat

ribbed like a reused condom,
a regurgitation of
ribbon, an image spit, pic
splitting into millions of

indifferences, ones which
listen, ones which, after birth,
mirror breached conditions, once
come un-im-prisoned re-po-

sition this brand’s criminal
recognition, splintering

                             iii.

egregorically in-
to phantasmagoric in-
terludes of forms no thought can
ever think its way through, no,

only deeper into. So,
ignore it until you feel
bothered by it. To read the
nuances of the wilder-

ness where my crash lands, three veins
of struggle upbraid the un-
fortunate few who assume
a dead glacier is a loss,

a dying one is a threat.
Thus, fly into a rage and

                             iv.

sharpen your wings to conquer
and disseminate little
sayings this capable of
making such big waves in the

rust-fed, iron-galled, ball-bled,
lead-bellied, just-pissed-in-the-
JELL-O®, cyanide-yellowed
guttural literature

of the sewer. An under-
nourishing f(e)ast neither too
dangerous nor hot enough
to quell the subliminal

swell of this hymnal’s capsules
my bitter witness outsells.