The Indiscriminate Obesity of Summer in New York

The indiscriminate obesity of summer in New York! –
belly-whopping into you like frenzied Rubens ladies fresh
and sweaty from a steam-bath in their sopping pink

voluminousness: what a mess of lard and pork! –
and light: oh! – too much light – and yet: a kind of heavy
brightness enters you into the lottery of fate with

something like the great experience of – “gratitude”
is not quite it, no: nothing adequate in that pale thank-you
to this hex and salty potion of a blinding exaltation

that the indiscriminate obesity of New York summer
would exact from you – it’s true, you cannot not report on
what and who you are at any given moment, like the riven

foment of your heart right now – as you galumph again
into that frenzied Rubens cow who wants far more than
your frail maleness will allow – or than it’s got – well,

let the whole thing rot, and sing a song of summer
and the way your love for its psychosis keeps you
in the fray of living here. Fate swivels near: spits at fear.


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