In imitation of Baudelaire

 These two poems were written sometime in my mid to late twenties, around fifteen years ago, describing the fun and games my sinful lust-worm subjects me to from time to time.

I

 

I create her in images perverse and false

A direct intent as her eye meets mine

Bending by will my steady decline

 

I create her in images perverse and false

A wicked smile curls her lip

A cruel light in her eye is lit

 

I create her in images perverse and false

Her laugh clasps him in its embrace

A smile plastered upon her face

 

I create her in images perverse and false

A vicious anger flashes from her eye

Her fist clenched at her side

 

I create her in images perverse and false

First exultant then cruel

And then the flower dies

Leaving sweet sick scents

Softened petals stirred by soft wind’s sigh

I create her in images perverse and false

 

 

II

 

Bless me doctor for I have sinned

By submitting to uncertainty

To the vagaries of Fate

Being beckoned by the arm

Pale and flabby in weight

 

Bless me doctor for I have sinned

Sinking slowly in the brown gash of her womb

Kneeling to her foot

Like a bitter yellow bone

 

I give you my blood to throw in the bin

Its curse has ripened with the passing of days

Bearing fruit of hunger

A field of waste

Bless me doctor for I have sinned