when we fuck

when we fuck
corpses watch us,
men all of them
and they fondle each other
sometimes, this i'm not sure
i quite like,
they have no business to clutch
their stiff dead limbs
within the subjugating discourse
of my consummate heterosexualism,
and i wish they'd stop it,
it's distressing but faintly erotic
like everything else about death
and the nothing that cums next

the suicidal nipple and the predictable
sin, herpetic skin and dildos
in angel's bums, and all their
second cummings, mummy,
baby Jesus licking that fishy stink
from his fingers, those loathsome
loaves of his love -

and all i wanted to do was fuck

by David McLean