And I thought
this is where I tell her –
she was on top writhing away
doing that shimmy only she can do
and coming in fits and spurts and starts
now panting now drooling now leaking now grunting
now yelping now farting now belching now speaking in tongues
happily unburdening herself in a fluid litany
of profanities covering the entire patriarchal spectrum
from oppression through objectification to condescension
while I had already lost all purchase
on this level and begun operating tentatively
on the next one up – you know that Tantric stuff –
and I was about to say IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou
alltogetherjustlikethat –
it had been two months since we’d seen each other
and we were going at it hammer and tongs
in her old bed (not the Spartan cot her mother
assigned me with her don’t-even-think-of-it look)
it’s not as if I was ever reluctant
to spew that perilous incantation
and the flowers fucking wandering fucking lonely
fucking cloudy fucking floating fucking flowers –
so I thought if you say it now she might remember it
when she is being interviewed in her dotage
on Where is he now and Who was he anyway?
and it was Christmas I mean jingle bells just unleash
those three tinsled words they will land upright,
well-dressed, house-trained and plausible
on the welcoming porch of her ear
and finally convince her of your undying devotion
but no...