Geeezeesus Keeerist Mom!
Never thought I could write these words alone in
Calpe
July 15, 2003
The Iranian
Destiny some great deed for future generations to hear silver-gold
drifting over the deserted moon old in Webster's dictionary.
Seduced in Spanish black loace over aurora combs lighted candles
on the castle hill where the turquiose mosque used to be now a
church to mount Jesus covered
with white easter lillies.
The black death procession down the narrow cobblestone streets
white stucco houses with men coming home for lunch at two turning
the key in chirozo doors embracing
your cheatin' heart will tell on you under late April geraniums.
Best friends, Spanish families welded together whiff of incense,
lace grapevines and black envy at night streaming toward the church
doors carrying the dead body
of Jesus in a glass sermon martyred candleabras check Calpe crabs with legs
wide open.
Never thought I could write these words alone in the corner next
to a potted ficus among the lovin' arms of the whole town of Calpe
self-effacing again a
hiding Persian on both sides of the ecumenical divide having just become evil
in the spring air across the Mediterranean.
Better to die glorious near the old castle wall covered with ivy and roses
at the bottom Antonio showed me his penis (pene).
Everyone except the black stallion was there. The horses had
disappeared above the olive trees winged joining Jesus in heaven.
Much lost as the gods deserted
the mosque, life is what counts.
Slippery mackerel split open with the backbone removed sprinkled
with flour and fried for her wedding pictures at the medevil fair
full of show me the way bread
with raisens. A rampant hetrosexual Spanish penis roamed the stalls looking
for sex marinated in vino, indrscribably delicious.
Petals of the laurel hedge and blue plumbago fell near the sacred
olive trees. Weeping, drug-crazed, soberano-sodden. cunt-obsessed
I shouted buttare via!-
get it out! voice or no voice Spanish heads topped laughably. Was that my destiny?
Dios! Ah ya ya! After prayers on the motorcycle the telephone
rang and I was bundled out and shot.
Oh DIOS! Just writing this has set up a terrible craving for
Antonio's tormentated penis.
It's Easter.
GEEEZEESUS KEEERIST MOM!
PENE- &%$·"!?-ESPANA
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