You needn’t be old
to have lived too long,
nor need you be jaded
to be old.
Desire will weary you soon enough
whether or not you hide in the idyll of the mind.
Try walking under a full moon at eventide
she will taunt you like silver lingerie:
soon, you will be lusting over lunar luxuries
whether or not you choose an idol of another kind.
Her muzzle is warm and itchy
like the muzzle of a horse,
yet taunting as the muzzle of a gun.
Never mind that puckered lips play you like the flute:
let the music slip you into it –
A sensuous syringe
she’ll drain you of daytime dross
locked in mental monasteries.
Reach, my friend, through ruptured fantasies
ravage victuals like Jerusalem
and when your taste wane as those of Solomon
with the ceasing of the wishes wafting from their yearning well,
then sip turpentine like wine!
Rape another’s mind and plagiarize their thoughts
for your hair is starker than obscenities in synagogues:
white as a baby’s sclera.
If you are so lucky as to revamp your ravenousness
remember, there’s always your flesh.
But most of all my friend,
remember to forget that
though yin may balance yang
Yen is but herself.
(comment on this poem)