looking down– lily ponds bleak in their darkened state
have not yet erupted, blue sparkles elder over Pliny ash as a fallen hero from Italy collapses on victory’s verge. Ernest, in his ways, he does not listen.
Dull-focused in on grey centered entrance to a Vesuvian hell.
Opening ruptures planet’s face, small at first love grew quickly nurtured, watered by her cum dripping off his face—forming pools for fresh water fish to weave in and out, almost extinct and under—
Grow coral reefs,
hot. Magma and ash escape below suffocating in self-offending pressures.
Vulcan rains embers down as Chilean women scream out in fear.
Tectonics awash diverging ridges built up over time. A frog leaps from one pad to the next as drums beat incessantly, ancestrally on the second overhead.
Sliding past each other, wings spread wide so plates cannot sink into ‘isms.
And though boundaries plume in distant planet’s wake—Ernest dives now searching for Venus’ pink love. A love that pulses waves between thighs replacing credits for quitters she closes, inhaling deep.
Force and bulge as Helen does while Michael is nowhere to be found and crowning heads link rocky boundaries for life to be never-lasting.
Tall compost ejected in Ernest, next month’s earnings will be worth this month’s cost, he talks.
Spits sheets spread thin with lines tagged brief. All roads lead to nuclear war and his critique is vulgar, ripening vulvas as they lush.
Erupt from cinders he grows. He glows.