By Anonymous*

“Go on, summer woman.”
You sing
bitter lies,
ask her for
sweet, sordid music,
like honey or peaches
on her tongue.
In drooling language
she cries out a chant.
Men ask for love
as enormous as the sky.
Never easy, some may show
you life like wind and water,
but some are like rock,
mean as diamonds.
Shake our iron chains,
blow storm but weakly.

I trudge sadly,
avoiding essential trueness,
yet spring rain must flood.
A thousand mad urges
always crush my goddess
as she fluffs elaborate
apparatus,

whispers raw vision behind death,
soars beneath the moment.
Together blood, like sleep,
a rusty beauty,
incubates dreams.
Delicate, language, luscious, cool,
after drunk with need—
I love bare lust,
smooth and frantic.
You here,
a sweaty symphony.
Lick skin only after swimming.

So
eat, scream, shine,
ugly one,
picture a lazy beat
under heavy spray.