The Po-em

it's that time again, children. now, gather 'round and eat your ice cream quietly whilst uncle joel entertains you with another of his gentle and sweet works of the Word:

We have immaculate assholes.
we are stone cold sincere
when we fuck you.
where you can't smell
we are.

shitting
takes time
and runs flush with mortality.
arrest the atoms
and let the vacuum
sweep through.

i feel wilder
through her eyes,
the tickling of fangs
in her throat.
stilettos cackle
as i'm carried down
to her doom.

the silence then is element
and stark.