Friday, August 8, 2008

On Your Behalf

Let’s interleave importunate
investigations wantonly
throughout your secret lives –

let the Word devise
an indiscriminacy
with the Flesh – until

your soul cannot
keep from emitting some
soft semi-sentient

sound. Underneath your
porous peel – let’s
listen for the pound

and peal of that deep bell
that wants you to dispel
all doubt – imagine

no impediments
to publicly enjoying all
of every little tasty

frangibility of every
hidden treat. Today you buy
two-thirds of one pound

of Swiss cheese, sliced
thin as sin: you roll its
pieces up to eat, but not

before you’ve salted
each a bit. There’s nothing
you won’t salt a bit.

(Summer writes this stuff
on your behalf. Shows it to
incoming Fall for laughs.)


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