Jove Fatale

King me and queen life never had,
the fundamental element is
no more my domain
than air is space.

That bearded man, the epoch
of that God idea, he laughs at me
behind the smiling anarchist mask.

Sweet freedom, where are you
except fellating the common whore
but isn't he special? Isn't he sweet?

The muckle mouthed harlot
in blood and cocaine
and denial of thought,
denial denial and denial.

Just a bitter pill not for
divine taste.

not to the taste even of
the damned common whore.