the fragrance of red rancour

flesh of the wealth
hanging off frugal brick walls
skeletal Jade, 90, unfolds out of box
a spider, clutching cover, folding house

blackest abstract depth drain
(bedside partner)
allure of the red sphere in stagnant water
sunk tunnel
sunk belly
charcoal being in mud grave

time is wasted on squares of paper
too dark for words
too dark for street poetry
couples pass blindly, hearts full of moire

to elsewhere (there is no home)
down contraband alley (to elsewhere)

fresh septic bread, fried
caustic pieces of green in golden scalding oil
non-english speaking whores as dinner maidens



art of the wealth
on fraudulent notebook covers
wives of the wealth
stumbling into cabs to sex dungeons
furniture limbs in yoni and god caves

sweating: splinter ecstasy
groaning oblation of moments

night cries
night crying
night costumes

nothing to wear near morning
nothing to sleep with but dis-ease
and the warm flesh of wealth
charring in sodium spotlights

#poetry, #dailywriting #irvingpaulpereira


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