i want to come in your mouth

To Johnny Beaver

i want to come in your mouth  you know
spread those jowls nice and good
insert myself
so my weltanschauung
touches your gedanken

i want to shove my pen
into the collection of your verse and
rolling up the lines like spaghetti
into my own mouth

i want to thrust my arm
deep into your throat
do a little fisting
fish around  come out
with a handful of dirty rags

cigarettes (I don't smoke
old underwear
matresses without bedsheets
stains all sorts sizes
and a little vanilla ice cream

conflating past and present  i want to
fuck you
only in the way a poet can want
to fuck another  through a thin sheet
of long vowels and delusion

don't worry  I don't want the You
the i wants the you
but the I does not want It
and in the end the I wants a lot of things
but the i usually gets nothing