Through vain illusion of their lust vnclene,
They brought forth Giants . . .
Spencer, The Faerie Queen
On the map a vulned imp, it has the shape
of a lion complete with mane
and claws, based no doubt upon
the tales of long forgotten travellers.
Green shoot of cunt. With a sharp
pointed penis I will blot out
my past. Gorged chaos of the skin, this ithyphallic
creature is of human form;
constantly reinforcing his reputation
She was on her journey
from the bushes into Lube. It was dark,
her arms were folded over her body
and her eyes were downcast to produce
effective self-consciousness — and so
she found her form — her hair in bunches,
a fleeting look of shame.
She has lumbered out of the shadows,
leaping the wall, landing next to me.
"You got any tissues?"
The recovery as she catches at the edge
of how she seems, setting it to rights with
a human female head and breasts —
her hair "long and brown," I said, "in bunches
behind her" — and wings issuing
from its back. Gyronny of eight Gules
and sable three male demi-mandrake, the hair,
leaves and apples Or within a bordure
Or charged with eight Cross Crosslets
fitchy azure. Or and azure, a "shee mandrake"
Argent, the hair, the leaves and apples
Proper, charged on the breast. Look but
don't touch. Pretty Miss, your condom —
a bugbear to all children she delighted
to entice and murder — has split? Wild beast;
small delicate, but ferocious. "Black man's sperm,"
she said; fitch of serpents over her,
tiny heads armed jessant winged sperm.1
Turned her arse in her majesty for the use
of the single horn which apparently possessed
singular virtues. Already, apothecaries want her
in the hospital grounds. She can cure bi-polar
disorders, alcoholism, grief. It has soaked
through her dress but her name is unknown.