Nut, the sky goddess, and Geb, the god of the earth
from the tomb of Heru em Horeb
Walk Like an Egyptian
the sky sits on my face today...
while I sit on the concrete stoop out front
and buzz to the sun going
around the girdle of her hips.
like sixty!
Like the music of a pantheon,
I plunge into a mystery
where the nude girl plays acoustic guitar,
and ties me to the bed with
the smoky rings of incense from
Kashmeer.
We go in, and climb the booming,
throbbing bass of footprints worn deep:
crevasses in the glacial wooden stairs;
like kneelers from a bankrupt church;
wish I was again outside,
dreaming.
I'll fly away in the morning,
when the patchwork quilt, sewn by hand
from the liquid smells of love's acrobat
stifles me with succubal heat:
I'll fly and leave my jeans behind,
like TV.
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note:
I originally had an unfinished poem scheduled up by mistake; I removed it and put this in.
added 01/26/2010
someone asked that I clarify a bit of imagery: stanza 3, when "we go in", we are climbing old, old wooden stairs which have deep impressions in them left by thousands of footfalls over the years...deep as cravasses in slowly moving glaciers...glaciers which now recede and disappear.
2 comments:
you really fast? seriously?
Well...yeah...just one day a week...and I allow myself as much tea as I want.
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