Hymn For a Dying Phallus
Some may admire me, but only those who know me know that I'm truly evil in Love. Better to make them fear you than to run. Look, but don't touch. Always. You will be the one suffering. I am the villain. I am low and material. I write with voice. I write with forcing. "Don't love a man who loves dogs. They will want to command you." You chose right in running away. I am the dead God, the stag slain. I am July in Christmas. I commend this shrivelled masculinity to Amun-Ra. I am no brave, but the cowardice and taker of things that come easily. I am old now. I remember a time before I thought too much. When trees were green and I was worshipped. I have fallen. Permanently deposed. Seek not the light. There is no truth in't. Wave away from me, anemone. Woman's a distant eternity. The executioner's mask knows no face. Death is indeed like my phallus only a little death and a little on target. Death is a pinprick but only a little one...