Saturday, April 19, 2008

I Read It Slowly And Thought Of Your Shape

I want to keep walking along
Beside you on the street
While your shadow
Tapers off the curb
And onto sun baked leaves
This moment is endless

Right now the car
To our left
Is pumping


And I know.
I know when he drives
Away, through the light,
This will never happen
And that this moment
Is not an eternity
But fleeting
As I watch the 92 Ford F150
(The sun is setting
on the reflection
of its windshield.
An orb settling into
the first and last
Horizon of its kind)
Peel out at the first sight
Of a green light

I’m back onto you
Now in your bed
On my back
In our jeans
And the pressure
Of your hand
On my right breast
Is reassuring
And sexy.
I’m exploring.
I'm driving my tounge into your mouth,
Spelunking your depths.
The insides of your cheek.

Work was a drag today
You hear me say as you ask
If I saw anyone
Dead. Quietly dying
At the Funeral luncheon I was catering
I saw a woman
Whose husband accidentally mistook
Her For a burglar
And shot her stomach in
While she was attempting
To get a glass of water

He seemed okay
I watched him eat
A ham and swiss on rye
For twenty minutes
He just sort of stared
And cried

You’re done with my story
And now you’re trying to take off my bra
While I tip my head back
And shove yours
Toward my crotch
I watch a shrike
Dive into a haze.
A congregation
Of gnats.

Some hours later
It’s dark and we
Are on the internet.
You and I,
Scouring the furthest regions of it
For live footage of


And for once we’re not ashamed.
We’re having a good time
Reveling in a man whose bus
Dumped POUNDS of shit
Into an already toxic Chicago
Shit stream.

We're watching a clip
Of a show from 1998.
I fall asleep and awake
In dreams. The truck
We saw Earlier is back on my mind
And we’re fucking
On top of it
While the driver drives

Crash into me
I say into your ear
I always knew this song was about sex