Fan
Blinded, I felt my way closer to the dripping
on your new snout (a delicious and rare button),
What I later popped and swallowed
now brings me closer to your glorious stink.
In later months fresh decay hobbles across these muscular lands,
(Now robbed wombs, collapsed and still)
These red turds are swallowing entire corpses like handfuls of dark
Mexican chocolate squares.
This is the State of the Unionless, I suppose,
Designed to drag these gray torsos forward.
Meaningfully by our licked-out sockets
On fresh cuts over the dewy blades of envy.
--Aaron Cohen,
COPYRIGHT July 30 2011
