Six thighs

 Flesh is silence ... enlightened. Cold pale butt. My fleshy computer stinks, oozing thick bloody lust and shit. Boozing up-skirt the gelatinous is cumming. Sucking the flow ... cushy in my corner, blessed ... Now in scarlet light, I'm singing the strange apparition that Julie and I have lived on southern highway : beheaded redhead, blue eyes ripped by Julie... Milk gushing from throat cut beyond the sweetness of her divine pig. Large knife always yelling. Six young thighs around Zoco Chico.

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.