Pleasures Pleading
What man is this,
Who may not kiss
And not want to spit
Out the taste of carrion,
Not want to wrench
The steaming stench
Of carnality
In billowing bellows
From his lungs
Not want to cleanse his tongue
Of all that it has touched,
Or hands fingered
Lingering in a malingering mind
Where pleasures pleading
Leads him, blind
Yet leaves behind him, needing
And impeded by his needs.
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