And The Illusion of Dogs


Hell
Hell hath no
fury as a woman
scorned
pales
in comparison to
one never touched,
old spinstered
and forlorn;
for the tales
she weaves
will unnerve
and deceive
every mother's grandson
ever born

Sacrilege
sacrilege
is only sacred
when the sacred
is spared sacrifice.
the ultimate order
of the alter
is woman

Circle Spinners
she spins
in circles
naked
she is not woman
she is anti-man
an artistic mutation
of lipstick
and surgical glands.
the proud invisible
stitches prove
neither is she man

Photo Montage
the photo montage
collage
danced from the page
she was a ready made,
an assemblage
of rapes mutilations
that gendersized her
as politically
neutral

Disgust
it used to be
war that
disgusted her
now it's the disgrace
of the spoils
of love

The Sky Fell
tremendous
pieces of the sky fell
splatting her
leaving ultra destruction
she couldn't duck.
she recognized the smell.
it was hell
again
raising
the phoenix
spreading its stench of love.

Andalusian
Andalusian dogs wear two legs
hunt and tarry
where cats carry
secret lips
and follicle chips
of beam me up scotties
and terrier terrors
soothed with droopy
eared eyelids
and aphrodisiac squids
that lure in medusa
like ways spinning
yarns of love lore
that adore only the
one spinning the web.

Doggishnish
the dog inside her
wags its tail
unconditionally
at the fish bones thrown
her way
she searches rotten
tomatoes for seeds
to renew and self start
her heart



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Setzen Sie sich bitte mit dem Autor Knut Kargel in Verbindung, um das Buch zu erwerben.

It is not allowed to print this book.
Please contact the author Knut Kargel to buy the book.


kk@atelierkargel.de