A History of Violence
my love is like a red red rose.
if roses are red, the violence is you.
i am a murderer,
just watch me murder reality
bit by bit, and
word by word.
(imitation, not duplication)
i will show you fear in a hand full of lust.
i will liberate your world with my pen s.
(refraction, not reflection)
this oblique space in you -
it calls for me, calls for my violence.
watch me watch you disappear
into the poetry of your skin.
kill the father, rape the mother -
this perenial bother with the other
just about borders on bleeding over.
us beautiful murderous lovers.
(Jack the Reader)
