Those kittens along his groin
must be spayed soon,
Where’s his bloody manhood
that takes what it wants
n sees the game of it all
Where’s the cataract of vision
that plummets like the duck in a cartoon
veering a few inches above the reeds
while the hunter counts his triumphs
in the imagined and apparent death hm?

How many things he’s forgotten
when the anagram of atomic annihilation
poses itself, how many roofless
cathedrals have been dismantled

How many signs of the finished music
have been piled in the museums
and caulked with horse shit

how o how many arrivals have been punched
in the lavatories by barrier reefs or hanging fans
along the roads that cannibals and pilgrims
have honored the same like shivers
of an exploded humanity hm?

I move toward heresy
like an idiot,
the carols have been played and sung
in the street
and conjured people,
the high-flying letters live in the mind
till so many years or feet between
bury the message in a concocted stew
netless like molecules or spit or leotard or mink,
the angels and ministers of laughter
need blood
and that’s the dang animal use we come to.