Saturday, February 17, 2007

Is it working now?

This poem is starting to give me grief. Please tell me it's working now.


Between the light and dark, a blink: you take
my hand and net aside the camouflage
to walk inside the room. There's ghosts in here -
they wail in whispers, grunts; the shunts and smacks
of fruitless, faceless love; anonymous
entanglements of slugging tongues. I slip
my hands around your cottoned waist, then down
inside your jeans to cup your muscled arse
and pull our groins together. Can't you see
the devil set within my eyes? I can suck
the wisdom teeth from jaws, the snot from lungs;
I can gnaw through sweat-built chests to lick the hearts
of warriors, my fifteen minute friend
who asked to dance astride this tumid tail.

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