By | 15 March 2005

on days when you can smell the sea
and summer coming

thoughts turn to miscegenation

the tense and press of flesh
            to fold
is all the air's imagining

how upright every breast is held
forced to attention, bound and shy

the short skirt likewise
   sly tribute
to the meek helplessness of men

what is it with the shiny lips?
and what should they remind me of?

everywhere shaved but the top of the head
and the temple's environs
who can tell?

salt whiff
forget the diesel under
remember, land's an interruption

Priapus pipes and preens to pry
more Falernian I say

or with Herrick
let me welcome back sack

o corpulent with lust
for your arousal and disgust

sit on my knee
and let me be Santa

a Lady of Sorrows
looks after us later

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