inside my head is
prairie dust and spiders
no wonder rita
has breasts as big as boulder colorado
and spreads her legs before me
like a mountain valley
with lands to be burrowed
and encloses her furrows gripping the plow
to capture every last glacial drop
no wonder rita
controls my mind
and clears the cobwebs
fucking it to fertility
2 thoughts:
This is a very vulnerable piece of writing for you. It isn't often you leave yourself so exposed in your poetry. I like it, though.
Rita sounds like a keeper, at least for one or two things, anyway.
It's good to clear the cobwebs and the sorrow ('til there's none...), so they say, right? You say it is a control of your mind, but I'm pretty sure it is a lot more than that, but this is good. Very good.
Lastly, you are SO my favourite poet, but can you kindly leave out any spiders or the like out of future poems? Thanks! :)
okay, but fertile prairie dust stays. rita does too, ha.
well, thank you, i think? i don't want to appear too naked. :)
Post a Comment