Call of the Wild
My bed suspects you arent coming back,
making your side, the left side, severely uncomfortable.
I reassure a heavy mattress with two pioneer arms
Lewis and Clark
wandering a brave new world of sheets and blankets
piled to resemble a body
your body is missing
Habeus corpus then says I have nothing on you
just empty air I point into.
It knows your body was so easy to make love to,
toss into your body
whispering dirty words so long they form
a hum like the rumble of an avalanche chasing Buddhists off a Tibetan mountain,
words to make the most pristine garden well erupt into a fountain of sin to lick the sky with one pure geyser before falling back underground.
This has meaning. I always held you in the present.
I had to, being no curator for frontier women,
no mistress of brass relics to polish,
sad-faced at your long absence while watching out a dusty window
praying for your safe return.
No, you?re aren?t coming back from war.
You?re coming back to it.
Guns and bayonets hot stabbing eyes with palms of hot death landing on your ass,
juggling bones, two pelvic ones crashing like ships and icebergs.
You were the iceberg
you sunk the unsinkable
Henry and June fucked like this
Gertrude stein and Alice Toklas screwed like this
Napoleon and Josephine screwed like this
and you are shorter
captain my captain, drawing blood and biting down when blood was needed.
I pull you up tits together for the most merciless fuck this war has ever seen
oh the humanity
grunts and cries of grueling battle
eyes lashing tongue smashing flesh biting cunt sucking hand to hand combat
humping our way through trench warfare
many a good soldier fell slick and expired
while America?s eyes are downcast
to the brutality of girls in love.
After all,
lady liberty doesn?t slam a few four horsemen
and fuck until independence day brings real fireworks,
but, I think that torch may burn for a sexy stone butch girl across the sea,
with a heart like a beacon to pilgrims like you
my arms wrap around the wilderness she watches over,
and pull them up to my chin
lesbo, carpet muncher, muff diver, dyke dyke dyke
all seem inadequate when you?re covered with your lover?s cum
we were wet and made holy
you were Shiva pulling happy arms around my hips
I was Buddha as full of your body as my own
You were god or his only daughter manifesting in visits
to submerge my head into liquid immortality
so maybe you were a carpenter
you were a rogue, a welder, and a smith
you were a pathmaker who left me for peace,
adventure is never kind to the frontier.
natives are the first to go.
I protest with cunt, arms, and fire
hissing like wind in the wild
like owls call and wolves howl.
We were wolves once at war taking salt off skin off flesh off bone
I know there was some point you called this body home
but Lewis and Clark weren?t looking for home either.
