Our Word Cage
for T.L.C.

physically
she does not match my ideal
the empty space inside

for breasts and hips
for hands and feet

in spite of what seems inconsistent
how fierce what I feel

such persistent emotions
for one twenty-one

for this woman
as fierce as hell to fight with

been bitten, kicked,
clawed, clobbered, bruised

over the internet, black and blue

we meet, we hug
two other people

polite when we’re not, actually

we fight, we’ve fought
left marks

see our poems, anatomy of these

able to bite like Chow Chow,
like Chihuahua

able to bark, able to howl

I like bad weather
more than bad dogs

we squabble in cages made of words


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
6:27 a.m. 09.04.08