10.25.2010

The Joys of Being Cold-Blooded

The orange has peaked
at this end of October.
It's the most vivid display
since I was a kid
or maybe this year
I just notice it more

like the God Rays
reaching down
like fingers through the clouds
kissing outstretched legs
of six turtles on their log.
It's late in the season
for them to be out
but no one's pulling over
to shout that towards the pond.

Statistically it's proven
that men stab up
women thrust down
and me?
I lash out wildly
in every direction
favoring the one that's easiest.
In this case it's my driveway:
a harmless, homeless number.
Be thankful for the rote.

But those stubborn, timeless turtles
in their late October sun
are God's immaculate orgasm:
a happy mess that feels good
without having to sleep
in the wet spot.

I'd gladly sleep in yours.



Currently reading:
"The Fifth Column" by Ernest Hemingway.

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