Loose and narrow his swivelled hips
Torn and down below ripping abandon
Hot dish in the oven
Dance upon a plate of rhythm
feet tap like drums in the desert
it’s time to see the stars shine
the sky is red with desires
creeping over a skull
legs that draw back and forth
a train arrives after the light begins
the rattle of him against her memory
the smile in that brutal approach
the slide of pills down a throat
admiring the priest holding
that ugly baby
Nicholas Alexander's Poetry