Suitable to our togetherness
12/09/2006 04:26 p.m.
Suitable to our togetherness

Give me a drag of life
I don't smoke enough
I don't get enough lime spritzer
in between my vast toes.

The almond tree and lemon tree kiss-mix.
Kismet.
Did they decide: “We'll evolve out of our clothes
into Eden's vapors.”?

Tendrils grow between the ladder
sewing rungs into the sea sand;
stung plums strew the ground
in schoolgirl French Knots.

Its a drowsy wet day, wet knickers
wet woolen socks, other voluptuous,
heavy washing drips over the bathtub.
It's a day for meat, potatoes, stew.
It's not a day for cuisine or the other
pretentious French words I like so much:
boudoir, crepuscular, evanescent.

Give me a puff of Gauloise strife
I don't fight enough
I don't put enough of my own
into the flow I just go

with it – you talk
like talk is cheap but talk is not cheap
or expensive, it has price
like everything else.

Around 1700 an “ornate headdress”
called a “commode” became very popular.

I fill the sea with trees – the forest
infinitesimal calculus of greens
permute the singers and biters
to give me a dangerously fragrant
fragrantly dangerous drag of LIFE -
the sea puts too much in
takes too much back
pouts too much

I take the sea for all its worth
in a game of poker,
I sit in a coven of rocks
hunched, deciding on the fate of crabs,
the rock pool is a roulette wheel,
my feet, the dice.