The Ogre

He advanced
and ate a third
of the earth--
the Ogre,
with his four-hundred-year-old women
and their thousand four-hundred-year-old sons....

did he in the agony of his failure
count them in error?

His whole disease endangers
the eyes of rescued corpses,
neither tame nor pale.
All day every day,
he pisses on the campgrounds of the war...
the Ogre met this one king
who was so poor,
he had no campgrounds--
that one had to borrow the roads
his sons traveled on.

King of Anger--
king who laughs
at iron historicality
or fails to be masculine--
or gives his exoticism
over to femininity--
he makes the skulls of adult gorillas
into cryogenic vats
for human brains.
Hatemongering Ogre--
pitying neither serpent
nor fish.
Hallucinating Ogre, cat-killer....

out of what agonized egg sac
came his superfly voicebox?

[--after Ricardo Aleixo]


phaneronoemikon said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Phanero Noemikon said...

this is a great and interesting poem! that's all i could think to say!