THE LAST PLACE YOU LOOK
Here in the bathroom “it” falls
on the floor & some
one steps out from
the tragic radiator
above this swirl a
nude wet elbow
clings & folds my superior
to a final tree
in May’s first light
we’ve eaten w/ each other
& eaten each one
again junction
eye toe tonguing the inner
when sheets smell of death
juice like a thrush
each concrete masturbation
each mutual panther
begets us this foam
“it” has disappeared to pink
& grey the edges
gone after you
stumbled across my pelvis
lips unsewn bad thrust
in trust we god
each other over mouth “it”
when can we make it
good last quiet.
"I am an idealistic, naive, passionate, truth-seeking, spiritually motivated artist, unschooled in the science of law and finance." --Wesley Snipes
Thursday, April 14, 2005
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1 comment:
Nice poem. Your title reminds me of one of Granny's sayings. "When you look for something, it's always in the last place you look." Out of spite, I still look for something in two more spots after I find it.
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