Pro Bellus

Me,
easily a misanthrope
ugly masculinity
stinks,
paints its skin
and spits venom
through gritted teeth.
No
give me beauty, where
I will immerse in
form and curves,
softly accented voices,
graceful limbs
and lithe fingers,
skilled, manipulative
sure.
In this bliss
my gnawing treatise
will splash out
onto the page,
a helpless ejaculation
rubicon of joyous ink
embellished with nothing
more than nubile juice
to watermark its authenticity.





© Graham Sherwood 02/2016