The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Crapulence

I speak
to you
from the great
Beyond, having
passed over into
that realm
of life, we who are
dead, can never visit
until that fateful
moment we can ne'er
expect
or expectorate

Let you and I
embrace in the
great Confluence,
an orgy of no shame,
a timeless respite,
our inheritance and
bequest unless
success fair empress
hath no dress
I rest
my case
and head upon the concrete
cold flush tries to
bridle the arterial fire
that flows and rears up,
a thousand youthful passions
blaze, boils, and scr...ys out
for justice, to be quenched,
ready to roil and radiate
eternal ejaculation,
leaving baked ceramic blackness
a friction who must
never touch 
the sandpaper of the skeptic
nor the flypaper of the mystic
nor the tissue paper with which
the rich wipe their assholes
scraping their lips
of the ichor of corpulence
decadence, crap-italism
excuse me while I 
wink.
■





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