Thursday, September 21, 2006

Holy Longing

On occasion
raison
leaves me dry.
Without shape
this foreign song
is the f bomb
rocketing
through me.
In classroom
at dinner table
in stores downtown.
I belong offshore,
dirty mouth whore.
Write it instead.
Make it french
put it in bed.
Lick its hole
Let it bite me back
before I come
back for more.
yelling encore!

1 Comments:

Anonymous Victor Y. said...

You belong I'd love you long
My love is strong
"if I could be with you
one hour tonight":
this is the 1920s
in tuxedos and black bow-ties
a vision of freedom
indistinguishable from criminality
in a city of cigarettes, earrings,
perfume, and pussy
and I know when I climb
the stairs you'll be there

1:28 AM  

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