Waiting for the tram
By this narrow lane
I spent a seed to germinate,
To grow into a tree,
To flower and fruition
Waiting for the train
By the blue lake
I spent an egg to hatch,
To wing into a sparrow
And fly awayWaiting for the ship
By the hillI spent a sperm to be born
As myself as helpless,
To grow into a tall buffoonery
Vain, vain are the waiting,
Silence and loudness
And the hugs and cuddles;
Vain, vain are the waiting,
Cruelty and roar,
And frowns and spasms of porn
Foaming in the lake
Swimming and dipping into ponds
Tasting the wetted flesh
I would satiate
As if a lion
With a live stag eaten;
Or a tiger roaring gratified
With lots of venison tasted.
'
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