Just Marvel In The Nature
Cow-down with a belly of machine churned mud
Be as the blowflies in a dead dog’s rancid gore
Virginity is a cosmetic window-dressed whore!
Awaiting arrow-headed demons in cold blood,
Cold love, lust hungry: hear her hearts outpour!
Out on a limb on a cusp of a buttercup, rotted
Be as the centipede under her silver birch skin
Snake in long grass for her white mouse moons
Breastbones to breastbone feel no funerals sin
Just marvel in the nature your lust looms in...
Mark Heathcote's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Just Marvel In The Nature by Mark Heathcote )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley