Conception



I was conceived in the dirt on the ground
I was conceived with no thought of rent boys
I was conceived with no stars or doves
I was conceived so far, so far away
My nightmare is
My nightmare is
and my nightmare is
conceiving
Words and births
birds and baths
money and freedom
boats and boasts
I came to on the floor. swollen tongue resting in my head. with a bottle of nameless wine and a letter for the dead. I picked my teeth and spat the blood. sensitive disharmony. terrific duels in the alleys. leather jackets and pants-less hysteria. Piss control frothing in the garage and a man named Jean...
A man named Jean
Staring into space
with a fork in the air
nothing on the fork
but the expectation of peer group
black cape and black eyes
criminal fuck
then a silent marriage
of boys
of boys
of boys
who won’t conceive
can’t conceive
but will sell their pure flames
and remember hardened numbers
tattooed like the first crime
until hairless
famous
and dying in hotel rooms

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