Mark R Slaughter (1957)

Do I really understand
The meaning of this poem?

I know I sort of wrote it all
Upon a lonely autumn eve,
A partner in a chardonnay,
My heart in haemorrhage ‘pon a sleeve,

Autonomous pen that had its say
Thro' ink and paper under play
Of words and metered verse;
But I was under curse:

A squally storm of blood-red brain
Invoking even worse -
The inner hell of mind:

A villanelle in metaphor
Was dancing to a troubadour
Aflow with courtly kind:

Mellifluous of inner tone,
According all with fantasy -

Suchlike a field of fulsome breasts
Upstanding to the sky
Thro' roughshod areolae -
An orphanage of nipples
Poking at the misty air -

No mouths or tongues
For mammary copulation,
Or hands upon
The wholesome mounds
To pet in adulation;

Only she-man demons
Hunting down the milky scent -
Cock-ready, rock-steady,
Two-tone eyes
Lusting in anticipation.

Now I run, bounding on to Hades,
Comprehension fading;
Then I too …

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012