YAKANTALISA

Bent is the smell of Yakantalisa
as bent as its stalk and its bent
philosophy.
Bent are those who speak fondly of
Yakantalisa’s scent.
Yakantalisa growing
in the clear yellow marshes
in the dark yellow marshes
of rotten kingdoms
over drowsy kings
on truck seats laden with lyrical,
scent bent, appalling Yakantalisas.
 
Oh perverted kings—
—Truck drivers crowned in vain!
Oh kings of piss
steering gays made from the flesh of crooked Yakantalisa,
Yakantalisa of love!
 
Kings of nothing clanging like a thousand
bells. Kings of nothing crushing my body
on summer nights.
Kings of instant coffee ding
dong.

YAKANTALISA