Humping the night
Felating the grassy,glassy succour of sobriety
Until they’re fetaled by morning
Woken daily by pulsing sawtooths
Tearing them from their feathery wombs of down.
Slouched like bronze sculpture of rodin.
Strained like a marble atlas.
Every man Dantean, Promethean,
Their bedroom door as comically divine
As an infirnitian gate of hell.