21 January 2011

The Frostly Pen

once more, for the right
climb up and reach that penned
soon it will be night
---youve a dagger to send
into the heart of
                       my master's mistress

she requires yr phallic kiss
to diffuse her beastly sex
carve her skin into sonnets lest---
be destroyed by that vile hex

I struck a match to help yr way
but it faltered in its blueness
---my mistress has sent me away
I am without home and spoonless

the carving word has
                         betrayed us both

my guilt arose in curdly white froth
at the deed which I fatigued
I took my match with scorning scoff
and came straight to yr mistress' bed

When I came to her she sat 
                                   in cower
so I graced her with my 
                                   golden shower