Jon Corelis Poet Blank verse

Notes About The Poem

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This poem is being distributed under terms
laid down by galactic conventions of amorous angels.
By breaking the seal on my lips, you agree to be bound
by the following conditions:  you will frantically search for perfection
in love and end up a snack for worms; you will never regain
that gemlike slumber in the universal womb
which is the only thing worth having; you will waste your existence
in howling pursuit of the phantoms of desire,
which will suck you dry as you ravenously feed on them.
No warranty, expressed or implied, is being made
that you will conquer cities of moonlit enchanted towers,
or bask in the homage of rajahs with perfumed beards,
or drowse in voluptuous pomp of erotic temples,
or be otherwise enabled beyond necessity.


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