29 February 2008
south paw foibles OR the trials of marriage
what’s the password for my porn library bomb maker
credit card arcana, whose lips freight this lovely code
whose squirting intellect parts my membranes now,
whose plain wrapped parcel holds my fate?
I try to sleep and am plagued by diamonds
pouring over the skyline on an industrial scale
each one paranoid, solidified a long age in bowels
and occasional grief
pus bursts the suture – my song line sutra!
the work of a lifetime a dead white cell in my wound
we walk the talk – sure this dunescape’s variable
hoofprints and condoms litter the beach