Monday, January 11, 2010

XXVII.XI

we were ill advised to go chasing
orgasms like Daphne, to trap them
in some corner; to watch them
turn to trees in our fingertips.

if we could learn to sit, still as buddha,
and patiently wait for them to rain
down on us in showers
(of gold),
we would all be the mothers
of heroes,
and we'd never again have to pay for parking
or car insurance
or spend the night fingering each other
because the drug store closes early
on sundays.

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