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