Pack of hounds

My first poem was a carob tree and

a silver vomit

Sylvia Plath

-a casual encounter, the only women at the dinnerparty-

 

The second one, an assignment from

an overweight man fatten up with ants

A question to an elderly man in who

I didn’t believe any more

-the first rhetorical resource in the History-

 

The third, pure masturbation

deformed body

-an idle pronoum-

 

The forth… well beyond my best poem

Complete silence

-Health-

 

The fith, it ramains to be seen

(equi)distant

-more fat, better love, more corpses-