>> Thursday, October 13, 2011
Look, this never happened to us
that is one reason for swallowing it
another body would devour it,
or at least give a seasoning to darken
the settings and semblance
lending an evanescent fidelity,
altering it in future to a sheer legend,
a romance divulged
out of hazy distance…
in our bodies it obtrudes;
glares perpetually in infernal unforgetfulness,
devouring the seasoning,
invariably retrieving itself from legend
turning conjectures and speculations
and in this fucking city, of all places,
unplane, unfanciful, unlove.
I can humbug with vocab
about as thoroughly
as you do with lovers .
I have my sex’s wizardry over phrases, ironies,
innuendos, half sarcasm, half whimsical,
an outlook on obscenity that delights to amaze
you have your’s –
the cajolery that, on literal diagnosis,
turns out really to be the reverse.
Like a half rehearsed aria
that trips in head
dissolving the instant you try to hum it
these ideas accumulate
in the backdrop of reason,
behind my reason, as it were,
and decline to come forth.
They are crouching like an orgasm
waiting to spring,
the tangible consummation
never takes place.
night has brought in the closing act--
of a choking hell-lust
crimson fires leap up
to whirl their strips of red shafts into
the wedges of bleakness..
they flicker erratically
upon squirming bodies,
the calamity of the morrow -
languor and nerve-waste
by grim orgies and waltzes.
first light of dawn has assailed
the stench of lechery
which had veiled our love,
while the dying fire festers
into silvery smoke, my throat
labors in stifling gasps of saliva,
you turn again..
the ungiven kiss burns our sensual lips
as our specters trail out silently
into the bush…