Ghazal of the C-4 and 72 Afterlife Whores
Dennis Mahagin

Improvised Intra-Uterine Explosive Device—detonation string
Fish-hooked to wriggling platinum Oroborus clitoris ring.

Platoon of pie-eyed Marines flashing teeth, swag and bling
At jukebox brothel in Baghdad—Sarge pulls the ripcord like train

whistle and
BLAM!—Ahhh  Salaam Ah
Sing!!—went the Come-Dom
of the King.

By the time she’s thirteen, a thousand headless Jihad
Corpse tricks having licked at her Mirage-Of-Many Hymen

as carbonated rainbow of desert spring.

No, no Innocents here—at inverted Limbo Bar, sluts scissor the
Creosote porch swing stanchion like strippers’ fire pole glazed
 
with crystal swirls of Divinity icing.

Pink candles on her pasties, another brown skin blushes
Red as herring—
 
Blows them out,
 
Reaches for phantom ramrod
Cock in the Void, and feels
nothing.