CARNIVAL OF HERMAPHRODITES

The small airplane can lift a grand piano--
listen to the wrecked belly sing--
you and I stand guard against the sky
from torpedo earth--
the cockpit has a drum set under glass
the astral curve that satellites will melt upon
a woman's body is coming
directly out of your forehead--
paint a porch on each wing

Watch me mother fuck fry
interplanetary meat from a pure tin can
and liberate the sex slaves from father Mars--
ovulant, purpled by rhythmic trees
on the eaten riverbed

There's a Tesla coil in the blood-blue
of your unwasted eyes--
break your hair on my proud belly
or ignite the amplifier with a labial crane--
that which reaches like a fist gloved with sorrow
from inside the body--this is
the total destruction of rock n' roll,
in a hallway blasted empty of history
watch paint fleck into mouths
from around the corners
as a hidden sun eats
the simmering form, plummet
canyons with quiet propellers
as the engine vapes what's left
of the ancient world
and the wormholes sicken into flower.