Third Poet · by James Broughton

This cup contains an unearthly nectar
habitually served at the wedding of wizards.
It is compounded by local seraphs and satyrs
from apricotroot appleheart and plumtail
poppybrine cashewegg and salmonbreast
larksweat lionspray and mothsperm
distilled in the pearly honeys of the moon.
It contains the essence of spirits in delight:
the delicious secret of the Great Intoxication.
Everyone may risk one sip. Serve it forth!

This is It · by James Broughton

This is It
and I am It
and You are It
and so is That
and He is It
and She is It
and It is It
and That is That

Oh It is This
and It is Thus
and It is Them
and It is Us
and It is Now
and here It is
and here We are
so This is It

The Gardener of Eden · by James Broughton

I am the old dreamer who never sleeps
I am timekeeper of the timeless dance
I preserve the long rhythms of the earth
and fertilize the rounds of desire

In my evergreen arboretum
I raise flowering hopes for the world
I plant seeds of perennial affection
and wait for their passionate bloom

Would you welcome that sight if you saw it?
Revalue the view you have lost?
Could you wake to the innocent morning
and follow the risks of your heart?

Every day I grow a dream in my garden
where the beds are laid out for love
When will you come to embrace it
and join in the joy of the dance?

The Bliss of With · by James Broughton

You have come to me out of the antiquities
We have loved one another for generations
We have loved one another for centuries

You teach me to trust the voices of my voices
You teach me to believe my own believings
You touch the palpability of my possibles

Together we reflect what our mirrors conceal
Together we upgrade the sun in our meridians
We remain open night and day to transcendence

You are incompletely disguised as a mortal
You are the eternal stranger I have always known
I saw your wings this morning
I saw your wings


His Music · by James Broughton

He rings my reaches
He wings my wording
He instructs me in
the songbook of the Sun

He fingers my edges
He sparks my wick
He teaches fire music to
all my flesh

He asks for attunement
He answers in anthems
He breathes a language that
enlightens my throat

He performs his canticle
on the pulse of my being
My soul ejaculates in
time with his heartbeat

I Have the God · by James Broughton

I have the god in my mouth

I savor the taste on my tongue
the sweet taste with the bitter

I have the god in my mouth

I relish the nip of desire
the peppery succulence

I have the god in my mouth

I sip the flavors of zest
the tang of gusto and punch

I have the god in my mouth

I feast on the spicy glory
devour the holy delicious

I swallow the god in my mouth

I sanctify in my throat
am sanctified into my guts

I have the god I have the god
I have the god in my mouth

Here Comes Your Messiah · by James Broughton

Hello again This is your overhead operator
I am the last message at the end of your line
If I plug you in will you listen this time?

Call me Old Man Puck Call me Peter Panic
Call me what you will but call me for dear life
Are you hard of hearing when the word is deafening?

As your licentious unlicensed metaphysician
I can transplant the heart failure of your hopes
I can lift your blood pressure to ecstatic heights

Are you ready to unbutton rapture and behold insight?
Are you ready for a regimen of lubricity and laughter?
How much do you treasure your habitual agonies?

I carry no proofs of my skill of my caring
Check my credibility by my holy goosepimples
Professionally I am here to electrocute inertia

Fear not I am the sweetest of the toughest
I have the inside track to the outer edge
I am the only sane outpatient in the theology asylum

I teach the sex of loving and the love of sexing
I preach the sacred music of the body’s organs
All your governments have tried to geld me

But I am Adam with his Eve still enribbed
I am Pan with the groin of Aphrodite
I am Dionysus in the lap of the Virgin

Watch me lift the weights of joy and abandon
I jog where no propriety can walk
I am much too healthy to ever be nice

I obliterate sexual labels and categories
I annul the disastrous marriage of Either to Or
My legal name is Judge Nott the All-Embracing

In my catalog of snug-fitting anatomical parts
I include all single and double meanings
Every imaginable union fits into my repertoire

I can't promise total victory for global endearment
Who can make the world safe for the amorous?
The universe lunches on indigestible mistakes

But I can liquidate your airtight scruples
Puncture your prejudice fumigate your dogma
I can operate on any toxic rectitude

I am Doctor Undoing the wronghead remover
I extract the sick securities of the mind
I cure addiction to the bitter pills of guilt

I am also Polly Morphous transorgasmic Nurse
I guarantee the renewal of your rightful radiance
bright with enough glory to embarrass eternity

Come convalesce with me in the clarity of wonder
Together we can dawdle in the hotbeds of heaven
And dance untrammeled in the palaces of wisdom.

Or do you still cling to your motheaten doldrum?

Erogeny · by James Broughton

We are hemispheres
Ebbing and flowing
We are continents
my oases
Explore me
I am
a terrain of
meadows and prairies
moors mesas
hillocks ravines and wild grasses
Touch Me

Visit my archipelagoes
my tropics
my equator
Share your shoreline
with my peninsulas
my coves channels
and deep lagoons

Graze gently
my pastures my pathways
my landmarks
My topography leads to
unchartered regions
savannas sierras
dunes and swamps and
hidden caves

I am
an alluvial horizon
I am
an aromatic wilderness
of thickets
and wines and trailing branches
mosses and ferns
and herbal grottoes

I exude
oils attars resin
seedpods pollen
and spicy fruits

Come near
this torrid geology

Out of fossil and clay
marrow and lavaflow
our volcanic latitudes
our landmasses
our mudpots and fumaroles
craters and geysers

From tundra to jungle
from summit to riverrun
in heatwave
in downpour

I am
a center of gravity
a thermal spring
a magnetic field
a mercurial planet

this succulent atlas