Cheetah Was the First Martyr

You know what your body
is like in space
transitional fast functions
gonad replicating w/ ire
the fast forward of sex lives
in the god voyeur's catalogue
i posit the last archaic
evidence the sin/keepers revile
my turning them around
leaving no hormonal leftovers
for their lascivious nod
outside where street gangs
rioted as vegas lovers
fornicated for video tapes
& the councilwoman flashed sweltering
long legs for the news camera
as the north cityside steamed
I became just another tom
thumb's bluesman regaling
no humane astronauts
in mindless mansions of space
Nasa's first alien crashed on
the ghost of einstein's brain
inside the Trump tower
New Year's
on the Strip.

the emporium of sex or death

Nascent storms bury us
among the road-straddled refugees
of history
wrack the tortured arabesque of minds
desiring revolutions end

when does stillness of design
come before the consummation
of broken ends
unglued? They saw you lying
a fractured Serb-doll by the road
devoid of human ends, or bare
beauty... Or when our designer model
in Versace & Armani raiment
was endlessly photographed until
i sewed your heart back
inside the emporium of sex or death
where love lingers w/ hurt perverts
(& we coalesced
those clashing opposites of genders
that bound you to Belgrade
when war's nite
fell)

we weren't ready for the disappearance
of good & evil,
for Milosevic-or-godlike icons fashionable
in your beautiful body bag.

(:)

I know how you dream while staying awake
as your husband lays sleeping next to you
unaware of your unfaithful designs
the long days pass into a timeless abyss
adrift in the untended garden of yourself
there are hopes decaying in reverie
of weeds & the blood-bringing thorn
you'd stick into his blind gray orb
unfocused on your galley of alluring selves
you display selectively to wayward men
waiting for that portion of yourself
to skin in some lust-biting-rapture
rife with the uneaten fertile seed
what spills into Sartre's nothingness
darker than any aborted black lovechild
whose eyes turn vertical (un)seeing you