Screwing Him with the Word
Poem: A retelling
In the beginning, his name was Nameless.
In the end, his name was Adam.
All that was left was the void of the Middle.
So, fruit me your rib, seed inside my slits, jaw my rattling body.
My lily’s turret is all yours, Darling.
“Yeah, no.”
***
The later interpreters pissed in front of Lot’s windows,
The disguised names came to them Unknown.
Sodom then couldn’t unload in the Middle.
Out them blind out, hole them cross whole, down them hold hard!
Run! I am your pillar of salacious salt, Sweetheart.
“Yeah, whatever.”
***
They made the lay-next-to-him side wrong.
Sweats of olfactory musk remain.
We’ve left whole-nesses in the Middle.
Sun our new son, guilt your God’s sake, stone my cherry pick.
Oh, I’d be so turned on, Dearest.
“Yeah, okay.”
***
Intractable bits that have no Middle.
Just a far right.
Not fractal energy.
Just worthlessness.
“Yeah…”
About the Creator
Paul Aaron Domenick
My writing speaks for itself, but in exchange with others, it speaks louder. Thank you for reading and responding to my stories. I enjoy reading yours, usually in the middle of the night :-)
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Comments (2)
Wow! Such a wonderful story teller always in your poetry. Amazing how gifted you are.
It's interesting (and sad) to note that as of now, 14 states in the U.S. still have sodomy laws that are not considered enforceable due to the Supreme Court's ruling in Lawrence v. Texas (2003).