I received some very interesting, rather scatological poems (the two below are actually very tame in comparison to some in the batch tendered) from a certain Welshman, Mr. David McLean, who has been living in Sweden since 1987. He seems to have a fetishistic love for Greek terms adopted into Western uses...like "orekton," the object of desire...here he is...
willing
sometimes the orekton is
just an erection or just
is, justice, sometimes
just nothing, misdirected
idealism, we strive like
animals and know
not whither "no"
goes
an-orektic
anorexics don't eat but we
an-orektics don't dream
though the nothing we strive after
is our goal and fated
salvation - yet this is a world
here, and the hour is so late
already, just drinks now after dinner
mate. happy hour, big bang 'til
late
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