don your spider silk trousseau, indulge me
funeral hymn and devil's perfume—
while you cherish my slack cock
in honey light our shadows creep
as we fuck in this church van
spawn a slit-eyed bastard
meant to rule gravy train slugs
glistening under dashboard's light—
saw-toothed smile crooked and pure
while we murder cherubs with our rubber gloves on.
© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.
Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;
all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.
'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.