My Pedigree Hails From Mechanics

Thud thud kerthunk kerthunk
The sounds the old clunker of an engine -
the remains of my oil-rotted heart beating
so heavily in my chest as I hoist your words
from a piece of heavy machinery,
trying to dissect, to discern, to theorize and postulate
what exactly I did wrong.

Your heart is purring like the engine
in a well-maintained collector's
fifty-nine Cadillac.
The noise and rumble is entirely different
than the fading beats of the Model-T
that takes up long-empty garage space
in my chest cavity.

I imagine God is much like a small boy
with a set of toy cars to play with
and brightly painted inter-locking track
with which he plays out our lives
as nothing more than a game,
setting us up on a miniature collision course,
our two cars humming for disaster at every turn
and squealing and giggling with delight as we slam together
at the most awkwardly constructed loop on the course.

And on the worst of days,
I feel like you've resigned me to my fate
and retired me to the junkyard
for people to pick over my body for parts,
varied and sundry amusements and accouterments of days gone by.
Hands of strangers poking and prodding,
wondering if my leather interior is real.
Of course it is.

And an oil leak that will never cease
keeps pouring out from under my hood,
lubrication flows freely
as you rev my engine,
taking me out of neutral and all the way into overdrive.
Motor mount tears fall to the asphalt,
as you drive on without me.

Do I really need a title?

Bare skin laid out
with a cold inhale
taut muscle ensconced
within yielding flesh.
Will I ever see you again?
I don't know.
Sigh once more
and enjoy this moment
to echo against the mirrors of your mind
again and again
driving you mad
until I must,
simply must,
feel you again
My Love.

Erotica of the Darker Sort

Not everything I write is forlorn and in love. Sometimes it's a little bit more on the edgy side. Sometimes it's full of grammar mistakes. Sometimes it's all about the squish and squirm. Sometimes it's about that gut feeling of lust. Sometimes it's just about a good old fashioned fucking.

If that's your thing, go ahead and check out the short serial, The Breaking of Katherine.