Today You Grabbed Your Secret Like a Crotch

Today you grabbed your secret

like a crotch and hauled it everywhere:

dared to whip it out and shove it back

and slink about until you found

another rude occasion to exonerate

your flasher shame by giving it

another burst of public fame –

then snuff it, just as soon as shown,

like candle flame. The winking on-

and-off of it – its peek-a-boo –

its sleight-of-hand – its underhanded

bluff and slide – attempted to do homage

to the great divide of keeping it

so long inside. To sit astride the terrible

ambivalence of private terror

and withheld remorse is quite a ride.









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