OCELOT DREAMS

My dearest sibling

spread her legs

with knives acquired from

dancing ocelots.

She fingered the folds of flesh

beneath the succulent breasts

of pineapples begging

for the subcutaneous whip.

In the middle of winter

she sucked the skin

from a porcupine’s spine

and danced around

a mobile clitoris.

*

Summer pajamas

smother dreams of fire

drawn from the leather envelope

of a Cheshire cat

whose mother danced a tango

on the heads of alligators

while seeking for philosophies

of flies that flitted

through a barricade

of undomestic bliss

and sucked the brains

of prepubescent skunks.

*

In palaces of blood we find

the treasures of millennia

of dancing turtledoves

whose screaming voices

verberate throughout

the frozen landscapes

of repression

and vast dreams.

My mother sucked her titties

like a defecating swan

and I grasped at the

lingam of a liberal

decunter whose lovely

twat sat deftly on

an aardvark’s nose.

*

My childish ways interpret

petty bourgeois snakes

as strangely opulescent vomit

I spit on the hats

of tentacled businessmen

grasping at clownish schemes

while underwriting

laboratory mixes

of putrescent microscopes

melting in the warmth

of a duck’s poisoned gland.

*

Sublime dictionaries

grow from the slime

that drops from the womb

of a newborn ocelot.

Her lover, a prehistoric porcupine

reads Shakespeare in bits

that have teeth

like a skunk.

They corkscrew through

the diadems of flesh

that we used to build temples

to the goddess

of godlessness.

*

Syphilitic meatballs

roll through cataracts

of shining flame

and the firm breasts of

an adolescent jaguar

rendezvous with the

somnolent cleaver

of dawn.

On certain bright mornings

we call this a race

for the burning fleas

of a resurrected

mountebank.

*

My mother’s sweet concubine

tasted like mango pudding

when I ironed her delectable

ocelot’s chair

Somewhere there had been

a grey rainbow weeping

with the diamond of a kangaroo’s tail.

This was where I found the clue

that opened up the treasure chest

full of pocket shrew vaginas.

*

Oh! The Sparkling Magics of Desire

Opening for a moment

wondrous worlds

of unknown colors that

flash and flirt

and turn a heel

whose curve encloses

a vast sky

of galloping antelopes

kissed by the glow of a mango

dripping juices toward

young lovers’ mouths.

*

Suicidal tendencies

chew out the eyes of rats

As wonderland

goes on sale

to the guardians of supermalls.

The petty dreams of weasels

eat the dancing ocelot pies

that squirt their fairy juices

toward an aging

desperado sky.

*

The stretching finger

of our lambent desire

has the tail of an

erect jaguar

down between its legs.

A feral tit

embraces the

dancing orangutang

of a chicken thief’s

dream.

I used to dance on daisies

but my withered cock

had other dreams

and so I walked

away.

*

When my mother

spat her nails

into the boards

of oblivion

I sought

for a penguin

to dance

the Charlemagne.

The diseases

in my kitchen

had a rhythm

like the green aluminum

that sang within

the walls of a rainbow trout’s

heart.

*

Dripping cunts of lesbians

inspire me to murder cops

to chop off their cheap clubs

And grind them into

mortal pester

of a genuine summer doll.

From there I draw the semen

to inspire my cockatoo

to transform the wild elixir

into beer.

*

The great abyss

is an invitation to flight

the first step in

is the last one needed

for this great adventure

Too long we have waited

to embrace the unknown

that most passionate of lovers

without boundaries

or chains

She howls

like a Guatemalan monkey

vibrations rising

from these endless depths

to fill a world

with its orgasmic glow.

*

I felt a fever burning

through the varnished purple head

of my unforgiven penis

I heard the songs

of monkeys howling

up from the depths

of a volcanic crater

As it danced upon the moon

with an ocelot in heat

I throbbed in the mouth

of a vibrating petunia

that thrived upon the

glowing, oozing lava

of my turgid heart.

*

How long shall we hide behind

the cards which we have made

from the manufactured fibers

of a social web?

How long shall we maintain

our particulate aggregates

where petty sameness enforces

our separation?

How long until the pleasures

of unspeakable unique ones

finally weave together

with the magic of desire

to mold the fearless symmetry

of tigers of utopian revolt?

*

Sleep, my friends, to dream

but dreaming, dance with leopards

that roam across a landscape

of seething fire

and ice.

Those birds whose feathers

smell like ink

and taste of chocolate bells

are ringing in

a new lemon of brilliant hue

that skips across the flames

like an antelope

and dances on the peak

of a solar wave.