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Permission granted by author for anyone to distribute this
writing free of charge (including translation into any
language)...under condition that no profit is made therefrom,
and that it remain intact and complete, including title and 
credit to the original author.

Ezekiel J. Krahlin

(A True Tale From The Castro. Eat your heart out, Armistead!)

© 2001 by Ezekiel Krahlin

You raped my spirit;
And that is no funny thing, Diomedes.
What has happened to the incredible man I once so greatly loved,
Many centuries ago?

What has twisted your spirit so, into a screeching harpy
Whose sole delight is to shred men's hearts?
What true man was this I once loved, 
That suddenly turns into a
Nasty Little Bitch?
I grieve for you, Troy,
I bear so much shame for your behavior,
That my heart has shattered
Like a wine glass to the floor.

For mine has been devastatingly shredded over you, Mr. Troy.
Yet you still seek my wallet while being blind to my heart!
I feel Great Shame for you, Troy;
I can't even look at your face, let alone
Into your lovely blue eyes (or were they hazel?
I seem to have forgot...may be that God is healing me
Now, from this violence of your tongue,
By removing any recollection--word or image, or scent--
of you, from my memory banks.

Yet I still do love you so much, I rage, punching and striking,
Against these beasts who would crush your existence
From even the Angel's memory: The Book Of Life.)

Yea, this is not merely an issue of violence in word;
It is also the violence of denial, of taking from another what you
First gave so lovingly and without deceit.

To replace your loving embraces and tender kisses with but
A handshake and "permission" to peck your cheek now and then:
Is worse than a slap in my face;
It is an abomination, a degradation of my loving spirit
Who chose to place complete trust in you,
But received, instead, 
A lump of coal which I thought was a heart.

You are like an Aztec Warrior ripping out my heart, 
And raising it to the Sun God Quetzelcoatl,
Still pulsating with life, as you sing:

"Praise the Feathered God, 
Accept my offering of this warrior's heart
That beats so pure and shining,
Who would have been offered the prize of immortality 
for his heroism by the Gods of Montezuma,
Had I not corrupted him first!

"For I am bold, strong, HETEROSEXUAL chief of all my clans,
And he, the warrior you see below me, 
Still flowing with blood,
Was but a silly faggot with the audacity to challenge
The King Himself, Me!

"Why, he couldn't even BREED new citizens
For my pleasures, and war. Outside of some flattering words
That made me happy for a while,
This man is worthless."

Yea, I now warn you, Troy,
That the Sun God is most displeased with your action,
And rejects the sacrifice of my heart, 
For your own diabolical appeasement.

For one: do not even think for a moment,
That I'd care to buy anything from you,
Ever again. So you need not send Don and Steve
(and lovely Sierra) to my room, any more. 
That part is over.

The ONLY way I'd ever accept a visit 
From you any more, is if you want to be raped:
That is about the level you have reduced our once-
Magnificent Friendship. So suck my Big Fat Joystick, and then
I'll dick the daylights out of you,
As my angels hold you down and strap you
To the four posts of my bed, with twine 
And packing tape from my desk.

And as I hump your exquisite ass,
Ejaculating wallops of semen up your tight anus,
You shall have the Mark of the Beast
Branded on the crown of your fleshy spear
These two words: "MY DICK". 
And the blowfly shall lay eggs in it.

Feel no pain, get no gain.

If you don't see me as anything but a handy wallet
That will do in a pinch, in times of scarcity:
Forget that! And word gets around pretty fast, 
in these here parts. (You can't sell grass
If it costs my ass!)
Soon enough, I am sure that my memories of you will grow vague,
And I'll even wonder what I ever saw in you,
In the first place.
Then, in a few more days, I won't remember you at all, 
or anything we might have shared.

But before I forget you totally, I leave you with 
This truthful remark:

You were offered to guard The Holy Grail
For a time, before passing it on to another.

Instead, you spit on it.


Your loving comrade, Ulysses,
Who weeps at the thought of losing you.

	But not for long.
	For your soul is safe in my heart, no matter what.