Simians Fugue

By David Hunter Sutherland

Staff Writer

hey murder me in concert,
make love as though a feast,
brass their nails into this sculpture,
covet me;
with strange mutations,
orphic effigies and rites,
levy tears of heavy metal
covet me;
with obscure gestures,
breach the ruin where I lay,
slur in Latin, Aramaic..
covet me;
in suasive laughter,
wicked slaughters - litany,
ruddy hands and hardened faces,
tangled arms beneath skin-tight pupils,
waxy skin on sky bone rubble,
covet me...

"..Simian shake, a treble longer
spin an octave to the beat,
turn a highbrow to this ballad
flip apractic, On your knees !"

They covet me
in stone flute caverns,
switch and bait antipathy,
carve their canvas down my navel,
birth the body in harsh labor,
arm their weapons, against neighbor,
covet me.