slack-thighed and painted
like a red indian queen
she is enormous in the clearing.
animals come from the forest
with claws like bowie knives
teeth like sharpened daggers.
she regards them as mountains do
the approach of mountaineers.
in a headlong rush
she is mounted by a giant stag
whose antlers stab the belly of the sky.
it is seen that she is insatiable.
soon goats graze quietly
on the slopes of her massive thighs
coneys peep behind her breasts
while the bloodcrazed eyes of weasels peer
from the tangles of her hair.
come darlings, lets go to bed, she says
when the groundskeeper came next morning
he found them like that
the whole world in her arms.
Wait now, Brian. Now your're heading into the world of FRIGGIN great poetry with this one. My god the visuals, strange, almost David Lynch like. Sordid. You are good my man. Keep 'em coming. You're on my list now dude!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yow! Yet succinct and so grand. I enyoyed very much. Read mine - Wide Open Spaces - perhaps fun but in no way as enigmatic as yours. Adeline