Venus Repenting

I was dreaming of Venus’s money
In that dim church – –
cold by the candles burning low and she
wearing that brick-reddish jacket and the eyes
of a cornered badger:
 
I found some fresh baptismal water on
the internet,
dear boy, come here and taste it,
just lay your head down in my fibonacci lap
and expiate for all my bona fide deeds !
 
My chest’s in the choir
my mouth is a moon
my son’s
in
the
font
my funds
for the
transept
are buried
in your
ears –
 
oh tell me your dreams oh tell me the drama we
were playing in and show me the place where
our drowsiness was eased come drag my eyes onto
the easel’s frame ignite my silence ignite
my gorging silence
 
I once thought of ignoring social divides
and all so-called cosmological barriers
and me a goddess have a genius child
by fred the queen of folks & of fox-terriers:
 
no matter how far
the weeping guitar
shall raise in the nave
the face that will save
my savings –
 
but what
if the
child
we be
get is
a her
myth a her
mA fro
dyke
 
Don’t forget to pay the priests for this service,
I told her dreaming of stashing away
some of the money,
they’ve been so kind and their albs still shine
in the altar
as if they were the lighthouse that guides
our sun
on his way thru the night
to the grave behind that
wooden iconostasis:
they built
my body on
top of a
high feel
in spite
of a mount
 
Mons veneris you mean she slapped me
naughty
boy you know you are my brother and my
brother’s
son and you and me still know this clutch
around
our heart is just a ring of prayers thru the net
in which the files copy themselves rec
urrently in an
anonymous account
don’t count for
this amount still
heads thru your brick-reddish blood back
to my cornered eyes: