From To Place
Ice cold water without any ice
there and not wanted, spent January
full glass in hand, sounding like sigh
corridor, door, rows of bed, if any
in Cowfuck, Nowhere.
Clock without hands
tic and not toc, masturbates
the boy scene, translating as youth
verses, one after the other
cum sweetly in bed.
Reticent sailor exciting envy,
impenetrable even to sharp teeth
tiresome like never before, a dialogue
lisped, carved, scrimshaw
in the wrong ivory bone
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