Absence
by Wolf Larsen
Watch out for flying sexual imagery! Duck! Stop reading if sex frightens you! You have been warned!
I was kidnapped by my own imagination
I was lost in my own bellybutton
The river of my brains ran away from me and I couldn’t catch it
My own penis led me through forests of carnivorous vaginas that devoured me daily
The poetry got on a train and went to a different planet
The words decided to become plays, and the plays decided to become centuries of war & lust
Every time I come back to this website there are fewer poets fewer writers fewer commentators — it’s like everyone is being swallowed up by some Facebook-what’s app monster devouring intellects and hanging brains out to rot in the afternoon sun
I was not lost in there, because for six months I didn’t have any Internet
So I was charging at imaginary things with my sword
I was ****ing every species except my own
I was writing on other planets, I was writing rivers of obscenity into existence
I couldn’t find my own penis-pen because I loaned it out to others
My own manly breasts became giant and filled with silicon
I was living in a whorehouse space station serving up transvestite-dominatrix-scrambled-eggs to intergalactic sailors
I became an honorary woman, I became an honorary space alien, I became myself
I couldn’t find the planet earth for six months
The words grew like pubic hairs out of my face
I couldn’t be seen in public
My own thoughts were being eaten by howling dogs every day
There was so much vagina that even the rabbits worshiped me
I lost my body but I danced anyway
I was dancing throughout the Milky Way galaxy for six months
Nobody could find me, not even myself
Copyright 2015 by Wolf Larsen