Fuck the World (or, A Worldcentric Libido Descends on the Sands of my Ocean Home)

Fuck the World
(or, A Worldcentric Libido Descends on the Sands of my Ocean Home)


All things must pass.

If this burning sand beneath me
were fired into glass
I’d smash it back to a thousand granules
and remember.

All things must pass.

With time as no constant,
I’ll fucking seize those mysteries
which lay beyond the boundary
where sea meets sky

and, I’ll take my position
both wonder and thorn
within and between
your moist and speckled thighs

and, I’ll cavern and soar
and advance and deny
and take what, for only then,
will appear to be mine

and on this ground,
which faces
past time,
only I,
will

draw

the

line.


All things must pass.

If this ocean’s call
were harnessed at last
I’d channel the song of a million sons
and remember.

All things must pass.