If my words carry weight
So be it…
I want only for them
To shoo the cat off the counter
And dust clean the minds of men.
Let those words tempt and prod and work whimsy
Where ‘ere they go.
Let them…no…MAKE them
Plunder the secret underwear drawers
Of sexy lesbian harlots fingering each other
Let them drip with smooth and alluring
Candied words that gag with their sweetness.
Let them tempt and beguile, let them smile unselfishly
As you recognize and regret their familiarity
In your mirrors.
Let those words cut and heal
Let them tender forth and steal
Let them loose upon Earth
Sentiments both dangerous and benign.
Let me sew your disembodied sanctum
With healing and semantic stitches
That make you want to go anywhere but home
Let these words make you want
To listen to Rusted Root and dance naked
Beneath a blood moon.
Let my words carry you, float you in hazy dreams
To your ethereal wonderland, personal, throbbing.
Let me call up all your horny whores,
Your monsters and goblins.
I will cause you fear, I will exhume righteous indignation.
I will incite you to riot if I can…and I can.
I will be the wolf at your throat, make you bleed
And then be the guru of your healing…cathartic.
My words will smite, ignite, bite, incite and requite.
They will look into your eyes
Put a gun to your ribs
Whisper niceties that drip like honey from your heart.
I can have my way with your soul
And you will suffer it in sublime abandon.
For I am the wordsmith, the wielder of words.
I am a wizard
What we writers are all about Until such ungodly hours as 4:03 am.