Here We Go Again

Excessive interventions
and extensions of the senses –
nothing’s not extravagant in your fat full
humanity: travel, then, pursuing one
slim aim: to make and enter and inhabit
poems – taste the sentient
and insentient – wastefully collect
too many contradictory
impressions: keep them warm and live
and stow them in a realm in which
they’ll ache to thrive –
wed content to unwilling form –
marry into that wide family of paradox –

poke the calm within the storm –
stoke the balm that treats the bloody wound
and heals it while it cannot not rejoice
in all the lovely violence that speared it
into being to begin with:
heed the sweetly spinning sounds of violins –
faint fragrances of violets:
mix romance with an indifferent brutal
arm and hand and groin whose
singular collective beastliness will join
you to a more than usually
shocking incredulity or two.
Watch the tomcat spray clandestinely away

but let your little creatures stay exactly
where they will: rear your kittens to be
alternately still and purring, praying,
scratching, playing, hatching
feline opportunities
to tease the instincts into
yet less comprehensible propensities:
cultivate a certain funky pheromonal stink
which brings you to another brink
of tender manfulness – then come to yet
another stumbling humbling stop,
right after it has popped your cork.
In other words, New York.


.