The Shroud of my Dated Poems

You peel the flesh from each flossy vine
as a monk cerebrally undresses a shrine
sifting the pulp of my dense lines
pare the fruit from each grafted stem
savoring the sweet wine as a connoisseur
in time, the structural integrity assaulted
the concrete bridges deconstructed
you mince, grate the velvet phrases
regurgitate them in formal circles
slip them into scholarly papers, readings
shred them in college courses
blurt them out at cocktail parties
my fruit now slowly ferments off the vine
the flesh of my body rots on the cutting floor
the context of the phrases obfuscated
bleeding rhymes divested of context
gleeful puns spun into the vulgar discourse
only syntactical allusions point to the original treatise
of an anonymous author left with scant bylines