Poem: "A Position of Defeat 12"




12.

the foreskin of the sun a mottled black
laved by bonus tubes of antiseptic cream
the meatus passes an untreated stream
of blood-flecked pus and semi-solid dreck           

the bath drainer sprouts tiny clumps of hair
between my fingers the material
i rub and jack off to the smell of cells
shooting into the wall a croix de guerre

the cracks between the eyes are filled with grout
the body lathered with the sweat of butter
from neck to haunch from inner thighs to outer
ablutions done whitewashed grave walks out


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