Poem for Monday, July 20, 2009

*Note to T.S. in regard to imitating writing styles: we can go tit for tat.

Untitled

Oh, how the fan blades

swing          elliptically

kissing the sweat that

evaporates from our

foolish bodies

I turn to you in the dark

under the covers, I ask

if the ceiling caved in

like the       catacombs

would it be so bad?

would it be so bad if

the moon melted

astrological butter

enraging the tides

enraging the sirens

something to think about

and we sweat again

the fan blades lethally

cutting       tensionknives

I am grabbing your hand

I don't know what to say next

will you be here

five minutes from    ?