Pure, unbounded sex they are!
Kings by day
and monarchs of the night,
they have it made,
the spiders with their sexual flair
and awful potency.
Of all our fears, we fear the most
their prowess in the web.
They have monopolised the field:
good sex, bad sex,
they have it all, who hang their wares
upon the nearest tree
and tease us as we try to pass,
their long legs in our way.
What are these wares of theirs?
Why, nothing less
than organs of the tender trap
made in situ
and deployed outside the body!
Beauty becomes them
and becomes the trap.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reade...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
A Wikipedia Image Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon" is one hundred years old this year. Some facts: The painting measu...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...