.
my mangina is the screw
by which you thread
your not so secret nights
don’t bother my beer
i’m drinking
my aversion to perversion
is a critical one a tropical storm
that don’t hold my shadow closely
oh no
my tongue’s sores on it and out of tune to boot
you can’t claim my weekends i’m scared
i’m a bit of a hand gesture
a measuring tape a poser
withered don’t bother
whispered confessions
expire quickly in dixie cups
and my white glove an erasure
that exposes my cock in public
like a fine wine
to the seating arrangement
the throbbing elements
.
.
.
Beglegged
... ..
seeking the lacklight
of love’s moon
however drowning
*
....
avoid hurt
long for situations
in advance
.
.
.
Giant
..
stamping “sleep” on invisible passports
trampolining to the ceiling
of dream her shadow shards
and desperate wishes for another sunlight
a more gorgeous twin
issued on the outskirts of the body
.
.
Andrew Lundwall is the managing editor of the electronic literary journal Melancholia's Tremulous Dreadlocks. He currently lives in his home state of Wisconsin after residing for 3 years in the Washington, DC metropolitan region. Recent work can be found in Ocho, Otoliths, and PFS Post.
