Premature Ejaculation

Black, filth, absolute destruction
pogrom seed scatters ill will
with it desire so shallow.

Dank, dark, semen-stained pages
Grotesque biscuits in a rusty barrel
Devils supper banquet burns.

Wasted decay of teeth sharpened
bleeding gums whisper scorn
and spittle cold tastes like death.

The black cross inverted
the inside perverted, sex rites
follow-like Dantes Inferno

Fulfilled by a terrible rhythm
Daily. Scoured clean. What
remains? And will it ever be seen?

The orange glow of success
is the same hue as hell’s furnace.
And we always ask for more.

Written originally for another site, but still mine!

© 2017 Andrew Watkins

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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One thought on “Premature Ejaculation

  1. I must confess, I am infatuated with this poem. You’re style of writing is beyond words. My favourite line is “sex rites follow- like Dante’s Inferno”. I hope you excel I and can’t wait to read more!

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