Silence in Interzone

Dazed I descend

the slope that ends

in drowsy mazes

of Interzone.

Open to quivering cracks,

to the slumbering filth

in half-light,

I slip in the stench of alleys,

and I penetrate languid dead ends,

when suddenly emerges

a young bewildered,

lips trembling,

hungry look.

— Come on ! she screeches,

I'm torn !

torn ...

Lifting up her dress

she shows me the paleness

of her thigh,

and she shuts up.

And I faint

in carnal silence.

The silence

of her thigh.

Interzone 3001

Hanging on the solar hook

of blind limpid sky,

a huge flayed ox

is crying

his thick

scarlet

tears.

Eleven bikini nymphs

wiggle

under the red rain

in September.

Dionysus snatches his heart

and throws it to the Maenads of the Web.

A juicy redhead

shits her milk

on the slaughterhouses

of

Interzone

in 3001.

The ax of Aesthetics

falls down on a nightclub

full of round  skinned thighs ...

— In my bed,

a huge flayed ox

is lying,

crushing  the tender breasts

of my slashed milky girl.

Aesthetics of carnage

-
My belly is a voracious beast, eager to tremors ;
it pukes strings of atrocities
gulps of tremulous terror
and sensual anxiety
without any purpose —

just for the killing joy 
for the sensorial massacre
and the terebrant chant
— and the scarlet hole
in the skull
of the present.
-

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Sweet sweet massacres

Blood
lights up in azure.

Earth cries her paranoid sap.

Poetry is slicing the thighs of tenderness.

Creamy naiads
refresh
the fluffy hole of anal roar.

Thus,
my phallic skull
is singing
the sensorial immanence
of
sweet milky massacres
and
burning streams of silence.

Mary's liver

The liver of Mary
sways and hums
at noon under the sun.

The blood of Mary
in streaks along the sky
intones his ripped aria
and
his scarlet dithyramb.

— Glory to Dionysus !

Cut-up alley

guts torn along alleys darkened by howler assassins warm heart snatched gray wall agony sawn neck dazed blade rusty dull my entrails on the table sheared light drilled multiple vertical crack slow impalement walking through the cut-throat street broken ribs hoping for some headless glow cracking the cartilage of the spear yelling loud twirling blinding furious cock singing upcoming murders licking sweet thighs killer Bone gleaming biting hilarious rump steak blood mixed with fresh brains spattered on Mary's cleavage the artist is not an ego she went home licking her own tits  that's my skull  “the-flow-flows” could coincide with : SILENCE

Lethal light

A bloody jelly

pours from dilated synapses

of chubby dreams

with strawberry

and busty bright cream

and clear screams —

and shrill slices of light

and pale eruptions   

of round deadly tits.