Dulce et Floridum Est
The hometown rocks the cradle of his dreams
But not because he hankers for their claws
To hold him close. He shies from nightmare streams
Of snakes. A summer night-time insect gnaws
Embedded in his memory. Spiders crawl
Where sunshine should have been. The stings
Of poison ivy spikes impose their brawl
Of agony. He knows too well the wings
Of bee stings threatened everywhere, down in
His genitals if suicidal bee
Finds ways to reach his cockhead. There’s no sin
As great as that vulnerability.
A brother might create (but just for fun)
Some chlorine gas, his throat and lungs to stun.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Feb 18, 2025 | BO, CH, FL, Ho |