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THE SNAKE UNCOILED
By Georg Kickinger anoint me with the tears of henbane coral mountain wilderness stripped bare in pursuit of your tenting, i am the hunted nightshade fragrance in your cleft's bloom on burial grounds, drink goblets lustfully skinning the flames from angel's trumpets dust your butterfly wings in my cedar grove turkish gazelle amidst fields of syrian rue the mandrake girdled by silken linings you uncoil the snake, feed me venom from your darkest ergot grains ablaze i lick perfumed gardens, painted nettles glory of the morning, spread your wings thrusting flower buds to fermentation we climb the vines of serpentine smoke fuck me perfectly senseless and awaken the thorns of the apple tree in your mouth whipped by juices of a mango ripened you thread the bones of a bird into my neck when fondled blind in the amber of hexing i want to double stroke your amanita to hear you scream, i burn my seeds sink your fangs into my throbbing veins over the yellow resin hemlock stream we ride our vessel of ashes and sweat 
Photograph by Georg Kickinger MY TONGUE ON THE CALYX OF YOUR SWEET VENOM By Georg Kickinger you spread your legs wide, backseat of the car neon lit parking lot, far from white picket fences we stake a claim in the embrace of a silence immune to the van next to us moving shipment for dreams that only come true in the heat of two bodies so fiercely aflame the engine overheats when standing still while you sing your bird into my mouth, I drip feathered caresses over your silken rainbow licked real by the warmth of the hearth I am a dervish that spins a thread from hope you weave over the moon's deep red shadows on marble skin reflected in surrender the windows are getting steamed and you moan your thirst so softly, tears flood my cheeks as a man steps out from behind a tree to receive goods that he has paid for in advance, I press your cheek against my chest and meet his gaze, he doesn't challenge the thunder that bolts a ghost to its chains when I feel your fingers slide over my wrist maybe you want me to fasten the rhythm to the beat of your heart, I draw my arcs and stroke a slightly different angle carefully probe your request — when your hand slides into mine, hold it tightly, come take me, in the rip tides underneath your waters I trust completely and lick you this night one thousand and one times unraveled your body, a blossom rain in my arms 
Art by Georg Kickinger WHEN YOU FUCK ME By Georg Kickinger the amber glow of your skin casts a steaming blood red blossom moon on the marshes in between your folds I am the bird that shed its wings licking dark wild honey, I bend from the bow of your body's strings silken reed moans into my hand over this promised bloom you drip sweet salt plowed from coral tears set aflame on your burning lips. 
Georg Kickinger "Several years ago, I made a walk through what I call the empty well. During that time, I was stripped of most things that had been important to me previous to that. I rediscovered a love of my youth, poetry. I spend my time painting, driving in circles through the foothills, and writing poetry when I am not exploring parks and parking lots."He currently lives in Sacramento. |
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