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Into the Flood!

I'm meeting you half-way,
cliff-diving deep into your Cisneros
and linger lazy over two
(no three) beers after work.
It staves off the inevitable
afternoon heat and lonely sheets
twisted and breathless;

Its pathetic how I push into your absence,
a miracle, the way you please me from half a world away.

I've been jacked on coffee all day
and reading in the parks.
I barely notice the kids on the corner
selling 'Revolutionary Art and T-Shirts.'
Sallow skin, thinning hair too young;
They make me laugh when I shouldn't.

For simplicity's sake
I cling hard to your words
which break my wild kingdom of desire
into easy ark-like pairings; each
wish coupled two-by-two.

40 days, every beast of the earth,
fowl of the air fucked in the
name of all that's holy.

40 nights to be alone with you.

We'll call that religion and be done with it.

You can eat nothing but mango.
Dance around fire.
Anoint yourself with saltwater, showers and sunshine.
Hurl your Spanish daggers my way.

I will match you word for word,
hellbent shudder for godalmighty flutter.
You wanted anarchy?-
those are butterflies gathering on the screens.

I wrote this on the back
of the poems you sent me.

I am determined to couple you
as completely
as the Tigris
rises
to meet
the oncoming
deluge.




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post #227
bio: blaine
perma-link
5/29/2005
12:48

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