My throat is full of sparklers
making me a lighthouse
for a loveship that can fly

Our mother monarchy
sweet land paternity

I'll eat their offspring's money and let you have a bite

In wilder colors I can love the copy of  you
which is great when we have breasts

He will breathe through contractions
and she will heal the faceless
and use her eyes to steel his legs

You must see that I'm eating for two sexes

Minimalism means nothing making more
of  what isn't there

a green preconception
divining a baby gender
for which I qualified
with braids ablaze and stuck to my back

We are going to win then make extra babies
yes we make enough
to make a country

Text unto the winged baby the tiny pill of  mystery
that makes me want to tickle the world
until it starts barfing clouds

Make it free is not the advice we paid for
but a long song about the flavor of nowhere

and how we never fill it
and how I shave my buzzardy wings to offend the sublime

While I'm quick to swallow the heaviest business
and quicker yet to modify that trash
you have a poultice for sudden holes

you have a knife in ten minutes
you will marry a parent and make it do
whatever you tell it

The raptor you were does an end-run around sorrow
but I'm right here sweetness

out of  the glass closet voilà
voilà so what do you make of my baby

Tonight we bomb
Tonight we blitz
Tonight we barrage
Tonight we make the greater migration
Tonight our fabulous flock shits napalm on the criminal dads

For I am a figure first of girls in orbit

the best reason I have to eat your bed

I am spangled breasts I am shaved
like any birdboy only huger
than babies or ladybugs

one of each is precious
a million a menace

My inside is a live mine
and I'm after the light that sustains the skin of  women
scooping the spectacle
where everyone freaks everyone

They will say how do you do Mister Ms. Thunderbride
and I will say I do it distorted

and you will marry a million of  you
in your twisted gown of  flames