'The Salivating Few' Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

"the body of solid blue,
My Prayer;
that I, might clean away the rust,
in the crevasses, in the hinges, of my sick soul.
Come, with God and Gold and Pearl,
make them blue once;
with holy water,
Come peel away His hot eyes.
abrase my skins...
praise my sin...
Seethe sea shell charms, compare me,
collect me;
Boil red dinners, for which I indulged,
and bartered the pearls that sat
upon a satin pillow, inside my ribcage.
Brass - Violence -
ghost sheets and halos—
Winds and wallops
a white sea
Laced by quantum oil spills
Shaken sparrow
prayer, flutter and ash-
the rush, of purple-winged shadows,
that strobe light knuckles;
to Deliver From Evil,
place upon packed clay,
a cell that ticks -
submit to the vertical bind,
Eden serpenting wrists and spine.
To stay is a question, an enemy,
built on the backs of atoms;
building, Eve's spare bones and ribs,
how to escape,
She Knew...
she flew...
not, from pride, but from friction,
the searing orgasm of resistance;
she dove-dived downward,
anticipating the raging ground.
The light illuminated,
the love lucid loss;
leaving, the bliss of the blind.'