i remember
knowing later
it was a wormhole
we'd come through
creamy white
skin and bones
moaning roars
uncaged animal nips
i've been living life
on tippy toes
straining my neck
arched back
i tell you i wish
we had videotaped that
and your giggles
clash with air full of us
bouncing off the voyeur shadows
this can not be real
my sexual prowess
abandoned me years ago
squeezed out by my search
for meaning
sunday
afternoon freakout
burly hands
scattering bullets over newly waxed hardwood floors
in flack jackets and face paint - clowns in trauma
could the clash you imagine be marching up the mountain
ants in synch and synch in drums
the cloud
cover is gone leaving cold to freeze your throat
gasping harder than the two pack a day usual
they can hear you, outside, wheezing and flailing
throwing sticky buttons at the wall you loved
squatting
down deep within your playhouse
hiding place for some - nestled in the ancient
trees' shadows dance on whitewashed walls
daredevil roamer with a codename - brrrrring
it's your
deity calling through the speaker phone
"don't just stand there, do something"
something doesn't come and you ram your hand
throw a plate glass window - louder
Copyright © 2000 Penelope Talbert
