Pineapple Field
for N.T-B.

unable to help her
being on my mind
as pushy as she is

as inclined as I am to pull her
like juice through straw

adore her, I do
artist and his model

you know how rough Rodin was

wanting the ligaments to show
he’d twist a model’s body
for the benefit of art, of audience

leave her to twist, this way or that
attire herself as she wishes

left all alone, she’s provocative
I lap up what drips
I look at her closely

she’s invited me to
for art’s sake, for my sake
for love’s sake

what big gulps I take
how much I swallow

in a black dress last evening
its straps framing and exposing

areas of a woman’s anatomy
difficult to behold
without wishing her bare
without disrobing her

in a poem naked
or able to see through glass

see-though things she wears
at night
around the house
she wears to bed

able to stop a man’s breath
his heartbeat, with a look or a gesture

with a suggestion or a reminder
of younger days or yonder days

fills life
with a rainstorm of possibilities

lightening, thunder,
shake the firmaments and my house

wind in the blinds, in the curtains
in her skirt, as well as in the sails
of Columbus’ three ships

how my heart beats with excitement
in expectation


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
1:50 a.m. 03.07.08