Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the night, edentulous, nescient to its
cosseting, cleansed me in its pit of
frothing mouth. I have the torso of a
sow under the guidance
of disaffection as well as motley other
unkind idolatries. so much for the fever from
this star, calcified, the skull’s abeyant mind.
my heart's a fountain in ...

madame ovaries packing me
among the baggage of her flight
I must abscond my carry ons
to the port of my delay

the devil cleft swarms her crotch
my fingers break against her gate
to measure up the bunker bone
and drown upon her rosy floor

she pops my cock the rigid thing
sprays it pink 'pon watered ...

sweet images in here

O yeah I really like this.

Great ending statement

thank you mister rod. i was referred here from a long lost poet friend, sweet doreen peri.

my tongue’s a baleen whale
to elicit sex and challenge males
pushing through the murk of work
not much else is speakable.
a patch of vinaceous thread
chokes the spool of radiance
how the child is cloaked; his
trenchant finger inculpates
toward my gape of hanging bat
in this tableaux vivants
a ...