Take this animal that I willingly am
fragmented dust
held together by a turmoil of nerve endings
devout in their profanity
Somewhere (this animal sensually thinks)
even on these streets
coke-edged and naked with danger
a hole in reality awaits my discovery of her
a crevice as yet unexplored
within whose dire beauty
the answer to all things terribly lies
a sphinx
riddled with sacrilege
who can do no less than devour my soul
The miracle of it all
how mere dust can feel so desperate.
EDDIE WOODS