Death
I’ve fallen in love with the devil
There is no love above his
Lips that taste of milk and cayenne
He whispers with heat
and screams with the cold blade of a dagger
I can never leave him
For I bought my happiness long ago
I repay him daily by reinforcing lies other women have sold to him
Which he aches to believe
Milk that tastes of adultery
Cayenne that tastes like deceit
I no longer believe in him
But he still exists, devising a plan to give me idolatry
I’m big
I suppose that’s why my women always seem
small
but this 6 foot goddess
who deals in real estate
and art
and flies from Texas
to see me
and I fly to Texas
to see her—
well, there’s plenty of her to
grab hold of
and I grab hold of it
of her,
I yank her head back by the hair,
I’m real macho,
I suck on her upper lip
her cunt
her soul
I mount her and tell her,
“I’m going to shoot white hot
juice into you. I didn’t fly all the way to
Galveston to play
chess.”
later we lay locked like human vines
my left arm under her pillow
my right arm over her side
I grip both of her hands,
and my chest
belly
balls
cock
tangle into her
and through us
in the dark
pass rays
back and forth
back and forth
until I fall away
and we sleep.
she’s wild
but kind
my 6 foot goddess
makes me laugh
the laughter of the mutilated
who still need
love,
and her blessed eyes
run deep into her head
like mountain springs
far in
and
cool and good.
she has saved me
from everything that is
not here.
Six Foot Goddess
Charles Bukowski
