poem by Ray Burt Was before time, begat and the symbol? Do you and the creation. Didn’t you and the aggregate? My hells were the moon, Were these the Golgotha and the weld of my pit’s hole, Do you and the blend of harrow and the blade, It ran it through. Did you aggregate my debased? Did you create the lump in my kingdom? Do you and the firmament and these, the waters, And many men and the creatures, I made these dissolve. I saw the moon it behooved, it were lonely, I made it twin, Do yours and the featureless and the resolve, I punished these with impunity. I killed, the cold came. Do you and the runners, for the ice it melted, a flood I made for the Noah. Do you, and impunity, do yours and the smelt of these. My gangrenous one and the gods of below rode. Does he whose utterances and those deflowered, I killed, The one eyed beast, I deflower it. It rode and tortured. He killed the titans and these; I rotted, these in the pit, Do these to the brim, often in my hell, I rude, cover the vagina? Our deeds of the howler, I wept for these holes. It’s weird and the sexual enmity. A foul to these, the Dinosaurs, I cleavage borrowed, I did unto men.