Adrenaline

Under the pressure of Orion’s

belt to twinkle with dead

light, I speak the hums

of monks seeking nirvana

by erasing my mind

like the dinosaurs from earth

and allowing instinctive

cavemen to roll the wheel

and light the flame.

 

I ride synapse bullets;

the collusion takes my foul

virginity and I am pure

like the lying whore Mary.

Deep in the manger

of my being, the lambs

play “the ground is lava”

and in a frenzy, stampede

the Sheppard and bulldoze

wolves that couldn’t accept

that my meat is my muscle.