for Dickson
foolish to have thought
you loved poetry more than pussy
oozing poems, oozing pens
ideas oozing
you prefer juicing
you prefer juices at 26
cannot expect you to feel as I do
as who’s past 50
buttons to push to open women's legs
fishing for fingerlings
prostate problems soon enough
to discourage who passes 40
like a line across the road
to turn back, an impossibility
as one’s inclined to do
when black cat crosses
a superstitious traveler
© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
6:51 p.m. 6/July/07
2 Comments:
Dear Obie, do the worlds of poetry and sex have to be miles apart and separated by legs..isnt poetry an art form in itself and isnt sex sometimes a celebration of art..how much poetry has sex inspired and so to separate the worlds of sex and the worlds of poetry is to sentence someone to a corner of desert island, with only a spoonful of water!
I appreciate your insight. Did you also mean to add "and how much sex poetry has inspired?"
Image of buttons to press to open women's legs comparable to pens we press, we click to let the writing part out; not unlike a pig’s penis appearing like a bit to drill through wood; leaves me to wonder if the female pig's sex organ has matching grooves. This though is an aside.
Many men it seems desire to perfect the search for the button to press or push or click to cause the female's thighs to fall apart.
For one committed to poetry though, like John Keats, needing to deliver his odes to our world, to produce a poem is comparable to coming or even a greater thrill.
Maybe it only is the thrill of ejaculating when conception occurs which matches the outpouring of Frost's "Stopping By the Woods On a Snowy Evening" http://www.ketzle.com/frost/snowyeve.htm
for example.
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