The Safety As spring rain punctures old thick sheets of ice I broke through these layers of lords Frozen into the shapes of infants Simply by putting on a wide white belt Over the shoulder and around the waist Buckled above the loins And pulled tight. I was god and had the power of god Bending down to double knot shoes After wiping drops of stray urine off laces And before the cracked tin-touched mirror Pinned a badge shimmering From Kleenex and spit And stroked the surface of my reflection As if it were the bottom of my descent Into the ecstasy of this unfolding half hour Of unequivocal power. Schoolmates stood aside As I rushed ahead to the four corners Of Frankford and Belair And stood my post Besmeared by harsh April sunlight The first warm dark butter of atmospheres I had never tasted but at this junction Of traffic and flesh And sixth grade fondness for the little ones Who stumble to the edge of their ends As I suffer the call to the four corners By this first orgasm of all concepts.
Posted on: Sat, 12 Jul 2014 15:44:29 +0000
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