"Histrionic, with a swine's loving heart larding my innards, I crash on San Francisco's docks. Unpacked from my Polynesian heaven I eye the bruised head of the press; once, Shakespeare 5 without a throat, I had made the sexual mystery limp the boards, and grunt, grunt by glorious grunt in Paris Tango's sordid atomic dawn. Now old and sexless before the gawping crowd at the courthouse, my largesse mauled 10 by rumor, my sinning son unsentenced, I sweat my sty of causes dry before the cool blind stone. Leather-jacketed in my rebel heyday, I knew my hated audience like a hated father, all my patricidal punches sweetened by affection."
From the collection "Contemporaries"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.