spir-al

 

 

 

Let me be the first to caution you. The golden apples are, if the hard-on

is for their soft skin, self unfruitful. Needing, as I, no good pollinator,

to  fawn happiness. God comes to you disguised as your own proof.

 

And staying in a lonely bed means that longsome had always been there,

with you on your blond arm.  Nestled in your kinky fulsome. Dreaming is

what a person does who has no bed at all.

 

Mother says that what she misses most about Dad is his urine splashing

in the bowl at 3am. Since she mumbles over Maxwell House and dew.

 

I believe her.

Reviews

[Tree]

Some profound thoughts ruminating over the page, and the poem opens a thousand doors. First off this line reached out and grabbed me around the throat. "God comes to you disguised as your own proof.''

I thought, that's some pretty convincing evidence.

The other thing I liked was how that third stanza added contrast to the first two, that change of direction escorted me right into your evocative image. Very nice, D

[Peter H]

wow this nicely written i could'nt help feeling a sense of abstract its intricate i like this :)