Absolute Negation Is Space But Pleasure

If I happen to smell
his condom
on your fingers
I hope you will

think of my brain
in the condom of an elk

and my empty skull
stuffed with some rampant
an unforgiving caterpillar
fatted on anise
and time

broadly
doth my barque
eck upon the river
of candelabrass

and hear

I lay my golden knight boat
on your shore
with its face of pipe organs
screaming like a hurricane

of possible pastoralities

fox dimple
touched by dew

i never knew you
and you never once heard
the curlew
of my

wholly unconscious voice