My Own Private Virginity

In the cave of the jeweled pupalepus, she
took from me my virginal lock, a locolochialogos
which hung from between the levers of my letter
where I pumped out the story of the damnable
debacle; She took it, and shook it around, a
found rattle whose gauntlet seed plates were arranged
in a fate; I was a thick black tongue of smoke
in vibrating pink porcelain crab-bodices.

The blonde thing wrote roughly
in witch-hazel
upon a squawk
of screeches:

in cave lane
there was a brain
that lived in a baroquely
looming sphere

crusted with putti
in goggles and fins
with ticks on their nipples
a movie begins

tiny sculptural movies
inside transparent tick retort~
nipple friends

in cave lane
there was an ogreus
gorgeous world
whose baroquely
looming sphere
was like a brain
and a caveat
within a teeming
vacuum
a teeming
of nought

in cave lane
you could drill
anywhere
and once through
the paper thin membrane
you' dbe drilling
in brain

high-speed seeds
might travel on hooks
down hairs
growing from
a twisting
autonomous
mandible

evacuate
caveat
eats
8
Q's

In the cave of the jeweled pupalepus, she
looked rather fine, and rather crude, and I
felt rather divine, and awfully rude.

We slept.

When we awoke!

:such sparkling sleeping Pharaohs!

ancient pupalepus
from a long sleeping race
began to awake
in this queer forgotten place~

Both of us now
with our virginal locks
in our hands
our
locologos spread


to see those oddly telescopic ear feelers
of the ancient insect rabbit family

slip between the crystals.

Now our slits
be smoky with fuel
and all of the school
is something
rough and fine

we spray nectar
from the nipples on our leg loom ridges

we have endless blonde locks
from between the levers
of our letters..