Wild Nights
The
beer is cold and you
Are hotter than hell tonight
Summer is coming:
You must take a lover
Then
all is as it should be:
The lark in the nest,
The salmon on a plate
Every
sprinkler in every lawn
Is part of the natural order
Let me take your hand here,
Our clasped fingers mixing
Scent and oil
These
days even nymphs
Live among plush objects
And angels on earth just
Want to get laid
Leda sits alone in the dark
Smoking with television
On her breath, Bacchus knows
Winter
is coming:
You must take a lover
Bring blankets, bundle,
Be pressed to your fires
The
hunt continues: lions don't
Clean their bloody muzzles
The homeless man who finds
A hit pigeon doesn't mind infestation
He wraps it in a newspaper
And cooks it over flame
In
ant farms congested with terrible trucks
Daisies grow willfully in earthenware pots
We're all experts in our tiny fields
So the mouse, thrilling in her bantam sphere,
So the flea shapes his desire to a razor point
The 2River View, 4.3 (Spring 2000)