In Hip Dorian’s Shadow by Peter Magliocco

dudes for the gust of some fine moment
there’s always impetus to change
looking into the mirror
for clandestine bodies turn
away before old vision clouds
refined moments of perception

until suspect gods of shallow lines
tell you you’re still bitchin’ enough
to trip the volatile light fantastic
& enter the breed of lingering elite
where your reflection becomes mine
then merging with others waiting

transformed into a greater frieze
of flesh-hued Laocoon frenzy
our limbs multiplying Hindu-like
into one cluster fuck snowballing
across the painted desert’s horizon.
“LOL,” for that moment of eternal splendor

dismantling our prim centuries
some must unleash the salt wounds
tasting of final desire as inevitably
we fuse our sweat in the matrix eye
where the strongest seedling turns to pus
in the open mouth of your wasted Mother

Peter Magliocco 2
Peter Magliocco writes from Las Vegas, Nevada, where he’s been active in small press circles both as editor and poetry scribe. His latest poetry book is Poems for the Downtrodden Millennium from The Medulla Review Publishing.

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