Oak Valve?

all her children
claimed exemptions
for their mudskin. like prizes carefully
arranged along a string of copper mines.
drape this out; make me mind.
<>
you've got me by the twills, no cotton.
<>
all her children were recalcitrant
retreating into mushroom rooms
with heads spun on and nighttime
kush-heads spinning grease ware...

that was the night i met her vagina
like a mandrake emptying a valve:
hello, functional part! let me sip thy
smooth chocolate romance

oh! on a boat of two waxed thumbs &
candy melodrama, these balls are our
hands holding a hand holding us back.
a hand is holding us back.
<>
nightly orphans. getting lit. these matches
us--they become our little group.

getting lit, ah yes... Foster's for Australian
wives. fucking Sheilas and getting pussy.
skulling beers and dropping acid. lecturing
groups of schoolchildren about Penicillin
and oak caskets: don't fuck sloppy; do not
die young. unless your coat slips. remind
me of my government. where do our faults
lie. beneath the ground she sighs. necro-
anything becomes a gross light like termites.
insects crawling into what was once termed
"hot." now just the literal heat and a sense of,
"what have i done?" clitoral rings and dings and
ding-dongs and bongs. our country becoming
ashes of American flags. Michael Phelps not
quilting but guilty of wrongs: marijuana orchard,
Mary Jane's ocher orchid of strong
men. Find one if you can and flee.