Abstraction

Do I really understand The meaning of this poem? I know I sort of wrote it all Upon a lonely autumn eve, A partner in a chardonnay, My heart in haemorrhage ‘pon a sleeve, Autonomous pen that had its say Thro' ink and paper under play Of words and metered verse; But I was under curse: A squally storm of blood-red brain Invoking even worse - The inner hell of mind: A villanelle in metaphor Was dancing to a troubadour Aflow with courtly kind: Mellifluous of inner tone, According all with fantasy - Suchlike a field of fulsome breasts Upstanding to the sky Thro' roughshod areolae - An orphanage of nipples Poking at the misty air - No mouths or tongues For mammary copulation, Or hands upon The wholesome mounds To pet in adulation; Only she-man demons Hunting down the milky scent - Cock-ready, rock-steady, Two-tone eyes Lusting in anticipation. Now I run, bounding on to Hades, Comprehension fading; Then I too … Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2012