poem for a nubile asiatic beauty

I'm okay, baby Rung,
except maybe
that I'm flying a little too close to the sun...
but such fire I've known fire before,

and know how to do
just what I have done,
which is to savagely seize
the steaming white controls,
and point the great aluminum tip
smoothly down into silken descent:

diving and devilish,
leaving behind
the bright and harp-lined
public heavens

to cool down in verdant darkness:
swerving and banging
in captain's control,
floating up and down
rearing in shared release:
clammy and clamped,
in and out, in and out,
up and down,
down and up,
and descending down all the way
to the wet, grassy ground...  

where surrounded by the wicked and wild
Phra-Pikaned's fountained garden I've found,
and here I learned
that even the tallest oaks,
and the most majestic red roses
arose when some wild and thorny spear
in loose animalian throes
screamed like a demon
and spilled lavish seed
into the pinned and gasping ground...  

and only thus in utter filth
arose white Greek columns,
austere medieval monasteries,
giant Buddhas, silicon kingdoms,
regal renaissance canvases,
sacred Shakespearean sonnets,
and jade-polished Asiatic haiku:

see,
first swimming in the flood,
the mustard seed is singled out
to soaring ascend the sky
although it's sinful
because it knows this truth...  

but fearless in inspired faith,
it moves the listless mountains
and in iron-piercing passion,
questions into
and dares far beyond
the submissive restraints
customarily placed on devilish youth...  

and so...  
beat and spinning now...
as I return from
the heights
of hot, horned flight:
I recall you've asked me

"How are you?,"
and in carnal consumption
amid life's changing confusions,
I try to reply to you
with something sweet and true,
but I'm distracted by Cupid's fevered madness:

and my every thought
is of jungle hue,
obsessed and dwelling
below your parted pink shorts:
my manhood long, taut and tigrish,
my mind's eye:
dauntless, barbarically drawn
but gently aimed at
the nubile view
of your wondrous and wanton Asiatic beauty...  

and thus orphically I
reply in feral sub-verse:
inspired and wild,
demonically demanding
seething and seductive,
slippery and snapping,
hungry, fanged and free:

savagely seeking
the sweet and secret key
to your neatly crossed
asiatic legs,
to your perfumed designer panties,
and unspeakably deeper
into the puffed and depraved depths
of your armoured, locked
feral floral recesses;

Know that 
in open and knightly ambition,
I'm determinedly seeking
the secret savage entry
to your silken, seething,
submissive asiatic hole...
indeed to
every wanton, withheld,
wet and sucking, churning,
diamond-stiffened
globe, curve and recess
of your girlish ecstacies