don’t write – a poem

don’t write – a poem

do the words
syllables
letters
get in the way of loving my life
as fully as i can
when i’m lost in paradise
with a woman
fluid and arrousing
do i miss some of her hunger
when i try and find a word for it
a phrase
rather than a gesture
a poem
before a caress
or is the beauty also
in the telling
retelling
rebirth
in text
and pause
and
period
and
lost commas
can i relive
or revive the energy
of the burning Mexican sun
and the pool
and her hand on my hip
tongue in my mouth
and joy for days
and nights
and days again
can my scribbling get confused
or frustrate even my own senses
as they sometimes distract my lover
why do you need to write
so much
spend time with that computer
and not me
and in the long crawl awake
of morning after morning together
i make a point
of appreciating the language virus
burbling around in my brain
and i wave a curious hello
will the ideas
come to me weeks later
or have they been lost
in the breeze that rattles the palm tree
out the back window
the donkeys angry that they’re donkeys
and each cockadoodle doo
says
hey man
wake the fuck up
listen
don’t write
listen
don’t write
feel
don’t write
don’t
fucking
write
another
word

6-30-18

Leave a Reply

Close Menu