'Where Lust Dines' Poem by Jacob Coleman

Tonight, I can write sinister lines (like)
“I watched a fat worm crawl across Love’s lips, ”
Or, “Mordred’s morose warlock eye still dines
At the Round Table of her ghost-grail hips.”

Tonight, I can write transparent lines (like)
“I watched a fat man crawl across his couch, ”
Or, “His one big drooping (sullen) eye dines
On the Square Screen and on his stomach’s pouch.”

Tonight, I can write myself in lines (like)
“I watched not myself crawl inside my self, ”
Or, “I, or my eye, or my mind’s eye dines
On what is not, but mostly, on my self.

Tonight, I will write no love-laugh lines-
Just cold spits of ghost-flesh left where Lust dines.”