Chest to Chest
I
"Take care," is what he'd said for her,
she confiding, blowing away like a balloon,
not mocking but heedless certainly,
time playing a craved capsule
or just the synthetic green roller blade shade
to contrast me as flush
against a purplish purr of nipple.
II
There was a moment, several perhaps,
but one certain, out on the lawn,
she rolling over the plaid spread,
child eddying in her arms
like a streptococcus, scared almost,
when the proximity overwhelmed, inside,
swelling even our new loose familiar curl
till I was huge and beyond the world.
III
Back in time mine own child hooks an arm
across my throat and reminds; horses fording
the Pecos and silent each perambs along
the Euphrates for this, the most innocent
door that ever was dreamt and she the door
and I stand before. If facile in opening do I
in passing worlds invert? and - well - is beyond ends
really nothing but an inverse of innocence?
IV
No matter. I lie awake in colors unreal, my cavern;
she nocturnal, image breathing, doing my thinking for me
over issues of safety and god, or about how language
commutes a sentence. Other things too.
At last she will say, "Give >me< a break." It's true.
And I need to go in now as well. That too.
One last remark. You see we were to have lunched.
And now that isn't possible. The oars are placed away
and only my chest's aflame under much heaving bitter clay.
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I am a software exec. and I do secret internet foo. I live near Boston, Massachusetts and spend a lot of time in San Francisco.
I began writing poetry a few years ago in a brave but ultimately feckless attempt to stave off a canonical entrapment breakdown.
I sometimes write with a pseudonym: Yorick_Nixon. I also write music and play musical instruments. I was a member of Boston noise band Inner Beauty and San Francisco improv combo Senator Buchanon. With the members of Inner Beauty I co-authored a pre-web internet published dystopic novel entitled "Skunk Angst".
Any spare time I have I read Shakespeare or listen to Bach. Bach seems to be the one thing all nerds agree on. I've lost touch with my culture. Though my friend Janet has turned me onto Cat Power. My only firmly held cultural belief is that Chan Marshall of Cat Power is kind of a babe. |
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