El Guapo with Melanistic Monarchs
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
El guapo swaggers through black butterflies,
As black as hair on him, on body, head
And upper lip, as black as pupils, eyes
That stab his victims through with lust. Dark, bled
Of any sympathy, eyes pierce the hearts
Of those around him like he wants to pierce
The sacred holes, the holes of willing parts.
He moves with certainty, a sureness fierce
With manliness. The faces follow him.
He knows it, lets them eat him in their souls.
He knows that he can have them at his whim.
His armpits send out pheromone controls.
No butterflies accompany the dopes
Around him. They are yearning for firm gropes.
~ Phillip Whidden
by phillipw | Apr 12, 2025 | BU, CH, MA, SE, TO, Uncategorized |