Friday, October 07, 2005

A Light Bulb Pulse

A Light Bulb Pulse

A light bulb pulse
throbbing in a bedroom
the way a penis might
or a heart
when it’s dark
and lovely
or scary
or both

An epicenter
where the tiny throes
ruffle sheets
marked by the tiniest
seismologists
shouting out
hold on
this is going to get rough

and it does

A light bulb pulse
glowing in a bedroom
the way that skin might
bioluminescent
heaven-sent
and tumble clumsy
into laundry piles
and junk mail
magazine subscription forms
lava lamp wax
red
going from zero to lust
in just…

A kiss
where the lips bloom
bedroom blossoms
and it’s tongue and mash
and fluttering eyes
and
hold on
this is going to get rough

But knowing
when it’s done
it’s cum down
and come down
gentle coos
the way that a bird might
sleeping
or a snore resonates
not meaning anything
but the escape of breath
pacing itself for tomorrow

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I would just do the laundry, Thats just me. Fucking all you want Even with on person gets complicated. Fu

Selina said...

I do so enjoy when you get smutty. Even your smut sounds lovely. Are you performing this one at The Roar? I am sad that I will be unable to attend. I now hate my new job as it conflicts with my plans to bum a ride to Edmonton to enjoy some rowdy poetry hi-jinks.

Michael said...

I haven't figured out quite yet what I will be performing at the Roar. We have a bit of an experiment for the big finale of which I am a part. Basically, the band will play non-stop for the entire set, just jamming, ebbing and flowing, and what have you. The poets, then, just step up to the mic without any sort of banter or introduction and read a poem that they think meshes with the mood of the music being played. My task is to have a handful of different poems with different feels to them ready and we'll see what I can get to fit where. It's a shame that you won't be able to attend. I'll have a few drinks for you.

Anonymous said...

Michael...I love you.