Man or mouse? my spouse, you glare
at me. I declare
wolf or woman? is the question
now you should ask of me. See
how my thick ditch-brown curls spill
from under
this frilly-lipped bonnet, its red flaring
a match with my big blood-
shot hot eyes. Don't
you just love a man who cries! My
beard's a woodland I could rub
against your moon-white land
to make it raw. If you'd like. My
huge paws rip
my rival male to shreds yet
we remain friend & brother squashed
in the pumping jail of my heart. My,
what huge balls I have – all
in Grandmotherly disguise: all
wig-curls & wrinkly skin.
My teeth are stained
with what I've been eating:
pretty cherries, poetry & shit. O, the rich
platter of my irritable bowl. Do you like
the way I wiggle like a little
woman while
my steel muscles gleam beneath
the wiry hairs on my arms and legs? Ooooh
the man in me squirms
out through a wolf's cunt
while the woman in me skips
(delicate calves whitely glinting)
fearlessly through a forest of stiffs. Please
split my gut; spit
your stones into it and stitch
me up. Do your worst. O, God yes –
from the top of my red bonnet
a long white slippery ribbon twitches
briefly in the breeze. Finally I spill
the bloody beans
onto to the moon's plate through my anus; piss
the hot true stink of me through
the lone lamppost lighting the dim
but populated alley of my dirty body.