No Caldron Broths Poem by Mark Heathcote

This madness has me by the balls
it rocks me and rolls me on all fours
in her petticoat-furores
loves entanglement, has no faults?
No culpability, no caldron-broths
no angel—devils disguised as moths.
Love is a heat-sensing system.
A viper's nest, the colder one-feels
the more are disgorged, the more
it is in a deep disequilibrium
the more it repeals, conceals true ideals.
Loves entanglement, has no faults?
No culpability, no caldron-broths
no angel devils disguised as moths.
Love is just a heat-sensing system.
The more madness has me by the balls
it rocks-me-rolls-me on all fours-
in her petticoat-furores.