The moon is a sow 
and grunts in my throat 
Her great shining shines through me 
so the mud of my hollow gleams 
and breaks in silver bubbles 

She is a sow 
and I a pig and a poet 

When she opens her white 
lips to devour me I bite back 
and laughter rocks the moon 

In the black of desire 
we rock and grunt, grunt and 
shine