Text
1.
The mailman arriving kind and exhausted stripping
his truck of Amazon boxes, the cardboard nearly
melting from incendiary content: a vibrating cock ring
prostate massager, the bed restraint kit with adjustable
cuffs and a pink lace lingerie one piece Teddy to go
with my leather half chest harness that came all the way
from China with love.
2.
Our devoted attendance at The Saturday Church
where the bedroom becomes a sexual wilderness
and the only intention is to praise what we find
in the act of worshipping lost. This is not a day of rest.
No one prays to be saved.
3.
The way a prisoner wakes up every day loving
the guard’s vascularity, those hot blue highways
of memories abandoned beneath an overpass of scars.
We were born to crash into power and safe
is a cute little adjective strapped in a car seat
sucking their thumb, oblivious to a leather boot
on the gas plunging them deeper into the world,
one lost binky at a time.
4.
Like her longing for crows that drank from a bird bath
made in the shape of a heart, their absence
a visceral reminder of how bored the mind
quickly becomes when nature’s black scarves
of dirty silk fade from the air without warning.
From Action, Spectacle Magazine