POLLUX
Oh my creature of duality!
duplicitous; when we
kiss
where we kiss
you wound me
doppelgäng me
all over my body
as I coil
around you
hold you tight as if
I were holding onto Japan
onto China
not wishing to fall out of
into
the arms of the Sun.
EXCHANGE
We thought the goddess
was here incarnate
to impart her blessing
we thought Aphrodite
but it was
time of Kali
wrong mythology, wrong
about everything
and you
hot-stove focused
when
I made my move
the chemistry I thought alchemy
much, much mistaken
this
kitchen stuff, basic
premise of our evolutionary trail
exchange of fluids, no
noble elements, grubby
hydrocarbons
no catalyst here for
transubstantiation
trans-
formation of the real
and we,
after the greedy, grasping
clamour of our exchange
left wondering
where we were heading
praying
we not taking
our Universe, the Universe
along with us
for some dark ride
and Kali’s dark eyes filling
with the light that is
her darkness
needing
our little, paltry,
insignificant dance
to spur her upon
her cosmic charge.
CONJUNCTION
however improbable,
it was a discourse
sweet and true
myself and none other
than the goddess Aphrodite,
or
a clone of her, or
one of her machines
chilling
becoming somewhat
philosophical as we
discussed divinity, mortality,
love
and existence
until this sexual scarecrow appeared
out of the blue
wooden-jawed and all
wooden-headed too
as he tried to argue his case
in favour of toxic neglectfulness
as somehow
true road to fatherhood,
family and patriarchy
but
we paid him
no heed
bade him
just disappear
and take all
his disjointed spittle shit
back
where it came from
from
whence it came
(quite
unspeakable place)
whilst goddess and I did
strip ourselves naked
venture into
the ocean very
place where she was born
made love
in that foam, churning
it all
up again
to celebrate conjunction
essence
of Creation
CYPRIS
she scares me sometimes
through
no fault
in her mechanism
channeling the goddess
this mother of Rome and
its imperious Caesars
lover of birds
and diamonds
lover of
a sweetness we
almost cannot bear
with her
signature
perfect breasts and
shining eyes
and her soul that is love
in all its forms and manifestations
but
with such singularity
in her great erotic purpose
narrow sexual focus
would deploy the entire
machinery of Heaven
every nut and bolt
to
give her one true love or
fancy for the moment
one perfect night
one perfect goddess ride
EVEN (IN A DREAM)
my phone refused to unlock
said it did not
recognize my face
must have
aged horribly overnight
suddenly put on
a thousand years
which is what you get
when you dream-dally with
a goddess
refuse to accept
you are
but mortal man
making love to
such a being
so disapproved
of in
every mythology
and now we see
the ruthless way
this
prohibition is
upheld by
immortals
in
defence of
privilege and absolute rights
even
extending to
the realm
of dream (but, Oh
what
a dream, Oh
what a dream!)
HOLD
hold
that thought!
and hold me too
vice-like
as if you were
anaconda or
reticulated python
I say as if
and yet
maybe you
are
maybe you are
giant serpent, constructor,
changed your
shape to
be near me
do that ancient serpent stuff
we humans
dream of
if not
well you could
pretend
PANDORA
I enter
the room
I enter
you
sex between
us
now just a
matter
of syntax
though
we
cracked
the code
you still
my Pandora
teeming
with surprises
convenience
taking precedence
giving
protocol
a pounding
full all you
can grab, all
you can devour buffet
a regular dose of
flaunted freed cum
daily delight
stripped of
due process and
sacred ceremony
revelling in the rupture of
every conceivable notion and option
stuck
in a philosophy
of fixed identity.
SPARAGAMOS
Aphrodite,
Empress,
I tickle
your Tarot
I drink your
milkshake
every flavour
sweet or
salty
recreate
the wonder of
the sparagamos
every time
we make love.
THING THEY MOST DESIRED TO SEE
read it in his tiger eyes as,
bird in mouth, he slouched
through the window
hard not to get the psychic message
from those meows
(translated into English
via Bengali)
sure as day
I heard it: Zeus, Thor
or Dionysus
feeling somewhat offended
has lightninged your TV set
hit in with
bolt of divine energy
this the day before Good Friday
to give your
enforced hiatus from
regular diet of reality and soapie
a peculiarly pagan twist
and so, via aforementioned bird
capturing feline,
I chatted with
the god
of wine
and with his father Zeus, and
the Viking god of thunder
(myself
in French off-shoot
of that Viking line)
whereupon or appears
I am squarely to blame
your TV’s demise is
a sign
for me
as much as you
is
death to
all distraction
set
between us
and
richly-
deserved punishment for
our neglect and failure
to honor
the gods together
as they
were
requesting
now
demanding
dutifully
sexually
(thing they
most, most, most
desired to see)
MEDUSA
you
turned me
into rock
turned me
into
grinding
stone
stripped me
of flesh
left me
bone
shattered all my
pretty beliefs
flawed conceptions
of female
beauty
and the snakes
so many
hissing, slithering
cherries on
that cake
hard
to think of anything
as vibrant
Erotic poetry 