Human Currency

We used to fasten our dreams

To balloons, letters to God we

Called them. Birds must have

Sabotaged their flight because

Not one of those prayers was

Ever satisfactorily answered


You used to run your tongue

Over my femoral pulse, just

One short-circuit away from

True love, beautiful when

Begging you said, tantric

Games wetting an appetite

For perversion. Impulses

Erupting helter skelter

White kabuki faces slyly

Anonymous, names more

Or less interchangeable


You used to drape me like a

Silk dress on a pheromone

Scented mattress, sliding into

Me nightly like a fetish, without

You inside there is only this

Insufferable emptiness, deflated

Egos and wine stains spilling

From the cock-eyed reproductions

Of budget-binned fine art, we

Flirted with madness or was it

Stupidity? Either way our

Achievements were void under

The discernment of sobriety


Sex used to feel a lot like love,

A simple biological imperative

A language of emergency, of

Willing heroes and of curiously

Masochistic victims, of parts

Striving for completion, bodies

Inseparable, virgin souls adjacent

Authenticity fitted into casual

Conversation to disguise parody


We used to growl at each other

Like animals cornered, savage

Prophecies, erotic Nirvanas

Broken by the collapse of mollusk

Flesh, loose hearts dropping into

Dirty pockets like change, human

Currency, the excised vessel

Disparaging, greedy hands straying

False lights providing temporary

Warmth for minds like petri dishes


(not sleeping means that my writing becomes manic and pressurized :-P)


3 thoughts on “Human Currency

  1. WOW! Manic, yeah probably so, but extraordinary images, a bit blown away by it all. I’m going to have to let that settle before trying to comment, but once again WOW!

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