Rosicrucian Rosiness

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

I’ve always judged by beauty.  So have you.

We think we judge by character and worth

Of decency and action, but we knew

That that is sophistry.  We search the earth

For beauty, beauty, beauty—wonders, joy

Of gorgeousness, unrivalled lovely lips

Of pink and kissing such that plunders joy,

And then . . . and then your fingering of hips

Of fleshy pink and penetration of

That secret, secret pinky fleshy part

Completely made for fleshy, fleshy love.

Who cares about such shallow things as heart?

  No.  Think of pink.  Search out the central pink

    Of mystery and urgency — its stink.

© Phillip Whidden
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