Rodak

                Conjoined Sonnets

                                1.

Gestation being the raison d’ of screwed,

Obstetric moves deliver ties which suck;

Full frontal scorn, all torque and thrust reviewed,

Unleashed which stalks like wolf, yet smells like duck.

Cooing lips which once seduced a kiss,

Knowing now but how to raise a bruise;

Yet yearning after coos now trained to hiss,

Of flesh’s afflictions many strains to choose.

Unless the stems should clot and starve the light,

Return’s lost project beckons to despair;

Suspended in love’s vacuum, robbed of flight,

Exhausted, flashed and falling like a flare.

Lust’s leavings litter time with shards which shred;

Flayed and gashed, but—hideous—not dead.

                                2.

Yes, I’m aware I tend to seem aloof,

Or—one could say—seem lost inside myself,

Unknown where I most need to share such truths

For purging which might psyche shift toward health.

Useless erudition, intellect,

Culture, sensibility—yes, class—

Knowing much has rendered one suspect;

Input for compassion does not pass.

Never will the need that stokes this pain

Get from you relief or soothing rest.

Condemned, then, to this toil I remain,

Until Nothingness shall honor my request:

Never e’er the answer to my When?

Til blackness quench the urge to ask again.