Cold Wet Couple
for D.B.A.

what we have, nothing more
than a walk across thin ice

thin skin of a lake, in winter, to walk across
precarious walk, her hand in mine

one minute together, next minute, separated
one or the other, fallen through

why are we not more firmly attached
securely connected

this the love I sing of from roof tops

my love for her, all I am able to boast of
speak of, not hers for me

what she feels for me, unclear to me
unknown to me

in the dark about it
try to move about, bumping into things


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
8:40 p.m. 31.10.10

Puppy Dog Pussy Cat
for D.B.A.

she knew I'd retaliate, hurt her pussy
fuck her hard, bruise it up

do to it what she did
what she'd do to my heart

tit for tat, butter for fat
this for that

expects to kill my dog
and I not kill her cat


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
12:15 p.m. 31.10.10

Rain of Tears
for D.B.A.

we have both been building this
been building it

you know I lie when I'm hurt
when I'm angry

you know at times like those
like these,
I exaggerate
to extreme degrees

what we have
we have built together
labored on it

ups and downs for going on 14 months
but especially in these last 7

we have labored hard and long
we have been mutually committed
or somewhat or almost

wealth of my life, your life
this thing without name we own
invented

what never before
and no where else
in this world existed

cannot just like that
let it slip into the sea
or back into oblivion

we have to take hold,
keep hold of what is
gold and rubies
diamonds and pearls

or do you think
that we're worth nothing
that we built nothing
have nothing
hold nothing

all your time and love and patience
have they added up to diddly-squat
to spit, to snot
to shit to flush

is love not sweeter than perfume
will you let the bottle that it's in
drop and break

what of all the bottles, vials
in which my tears
which in this relationship
have fallen like rain
are collected


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
1:07 a.m. 31.10.10

Heave & Sigh
inspired by e-mail received,
all very recently,
from George Lamming,
Kamau Brathwaite,
Ian McDonald,
Ted Chamberlain
& David Dabydeen;
it is dedicated to them.

people all around the place
all across the globe

scholars, writers, friends of mine
retiring or moving on

new crops of murderers, thieves
popping up, cropping up
crapping up the place

daring to do in broad daylight
what of old used to be confined
to dark of night

arm twisting in this town
in this capital city
of our tiny backward country

to suggest people read
to get them to read

at one and the same time
writers here treated
as if they didn't exist
as if they were worthless
were worth nothing

who to add to, to contribute
to the crop required
to replace, to fill the vacancies

vacant seats left by writers
scholars, friends of mine
around the globe

retiring, moving on, moving off
greener pastures
beyond blue skies


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
2:50 p.m. 29.10.10

I Wanted To Be Ready
for A.W.

how did she do what she did
why did she do what she did
how do I get her to do it again

that moment, that incident
still to unravel

what did I say, what was it
that made her leap upon me almost
I wasn't even ready

like someone jumping
without waiting for you to say, "Jump!"

for you to prepare yourself,
your arms
to be certain you do not drop
who trusted you enough
to leap into your arms

my arms were not even open
I was holding something else
someone else

she lept anyway, as if to say
you should have been ready

at any moment
an angel can fall out of heaven
into your life


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
8:29 p.m. 29.10.10

You're a poem.
All of my poems of you
are merely attempts
to translate you into words.

Gift Selection
for D.B.A.

you believe in this and that
attached therefore to this and that
to this one, that one

try to make misfits fit
try to make fit what can't/who can't fit
what is and who are
not intended to

my God,
why is your sister not more supportive
more respectful
with her television-
or the television
on like torture

what have you done her
what possibly is she paying you back for

I am aware you can be bullheaded
aware that you are strong-willed
aware that you can be selfish, insubordinate

used to think it was your brothers
against whom you were sharpened
shaped, forged

it is your mother and your sisters too
and who else, responsible for your edge
your edges and who's responsible
for your softness, your sweetness

now against me sharpening
in another variety of ways
intellectually, I hope, among them

in poetry softening, in poetry bathing
a lake of poetry for you to wade in

added to or springing
more and more each day

poetry to bathe in
better than milk to bathe in
if or even if I must myself say so

herein though lies the conflict
poetry and this shit, that shit
poet and this one, that one

why do you need junk
along with jewelry for Christmas


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
12:50 p.m. 25.10.10

In Careful Hands
for D.B.A.

apologizing, or trying to
for having, the day before, hung the phone up

offended and annoyed
that I was passionately conveying something
and she was not listening
was instead otherwise occupied
multitasking, her usual explanation

forgiving me or understanding,
the following day, she called back

tried to convey how I thought, how I feared
I had lost her, how I felt I had thrown her away
and how, almost immediately, I'd begun to regret it
though I'd hung up over what I'd hung up

upon reflecting, upon what else transpired
during that same call

I recalled her singing, awfully and delightfully
“Singing in the Rain” to entertain herself and me

recalled her laughter, her giggling delightfully
recalled when I did have her attention fully
when we were attached like twins
like we sometimes are, at times can be

I had, without differentiating,
thrown away the good with the bad
the bitter with the sweet
is what I was attempting to convey
along with apologies for ringing off
like I did, when I did, the day before

you know there always will be something,
Obi, she said
that part that is utterly delicious
part that is a dish of delight

suggesting that always
when we connected, in what we experienced
there is, was and always will be

that precious part, some precious part
she and I would wish to cherish
and not overturn, not spill or dispose of

what wisdom, I thought, and what confidence
in herself and in us, in what we are capable
of making, come what may
or in spite of whatever arose or arises

there would be always that bit, those drops
the divine itself provided, not to be treated
or taken lightly but to be sipped or savored
or preserved in a jar with a lid, in careful hands


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
2:36 a.m. 22.10.10

Brenda
for D.B.A.

your mother sits down like that
no matter who pulls up, with her leg up
with her tights on

eyes upon her, unable to embarrass her
to embarrass who has her leg up to relax,
to air, for breeze

what does she care about who isn't pleased
with her posture, with her ladyship

sippers of Champagne, too polite
for her unzipped ways, unzipped days

upon the bench in front of the house
with a leg up and you want to interrupt
expect her to adjust because you pull up

because you're embarrassed, she should be
hell no

she came outside to relax, what does she care
if you are unable to relax like that
or if you find her awkward or odd
sitting on the bench with a leg up
with legs apart, in cut off tights
in the middle of the afternoon

not until a customer or two happens along
and she has to serve, will she take her leg down
put her two feet together on the ground
get up, go inside

not because you were watching her
sitting with one leg up, with legs apart


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
9:48 p.m. 21.10.10

Bean Pods for 3 Women
for D.B.A., S.A. & Cynthia Sue Fisher

i.
unfaithful to my almost wife
claims she does not mind sharing me

makes it easier upon her conscience
my having to share her

at times therefore when I am unfaithful
I am without restraint

that smile shared with this other woman
with whom I am having an affair
allowed to go right through me

a moment of mutual melting
like cubes of sugar in hot tea

ah, to connect like that
affirmation of joy, of pleasure
able to produce
able to provide

what a second or two of intercourse
like I've not had in a long time
outside of the affair I am in
usually on line or over the phone

this was in person, eye contact
we connected, acknowledged it
confessed we love each other
confessed love for each other
and equally as much, an equal amount

that is what was so very pleasing
affirmation of the same amount
of something outpouring, being out poured

how like syrup, a lick of it, a drop of it
to sweeten times gone by- times to come
what can be bitter made better

ii.
membrane which separates
Maya and me, Maya from me

she on its other side, breathing air
breathing still, I in my world
where poems are made
making them still

as close to connecting,
to reconnecting- to reconnected
as numbers on my debit card
as information I could buy

her phone number, her e-mail account
her mailing address

membrane between her family
my family for a minute

have they lived all this time
with me left out, locked out

with me outside in whatever weather
have they cared if I lived or died
if I was living or dying

kept alive by tenacity,
other family members
accumulated over time

ages since we were together
since we were last together, since '77,

'78 concluded our correspondence
advised me
not to, any longer, try to find her
she was fine, she said

my seeking her, she said
was upsetting
to her mother

48 then, 80 now
what I've endured these 32 years

what has she gone through
been through, I wonder

iii.
girl if you smell me now, you'd leave me
my pajamas is way overdue for washing

silly, lazy me, wearing it still
I'd intended to wash it
day-before-yesterday and didn't
how unpleasant it smells

were you to hug me, hold me now
how repulsed I am certain you'd be

in my room the other afternoon
sitting in my metal, folding chair
watching part 3 of Calle 54
how did my room smell
of what did it smell

was it unpleasant
hint of smelly shoes, of unwashed socks

smell of plastic bag of garbage
hanging upon the knob
of my bathroom door, swinging open

I opened my bedroom's
two push up windows, to let fresh air in
did it make a difference, any at all

want to be for you, the best I can be
in every possible way

will you- can you love me as I am
want to love you as you are
embrace you as you are, hug you, kiss you

want you to be mine, want to be yours
any hope, any chance

iv.
so fat, stuffed in your outfits
dough with yeast
stretching, rising

as the sun rises- as the moon rises
as time passes- as earth spins

a fatter and a fatter girl
to put up with

kiss my teeth
not to have seen your pussy slim
not to be able to watch, to witness
your pussy grow- go out of shape
or grow more and more wonderful

want to see you, not clothes
or not just or not only clothes

want to see you as you are
as you see you, and more besides

bare back and thighs
bare hips and sides
Suzie hairy, head of hair

want to know you
not just the shoes, the clothes
you choose to wear

you resist this wish
this desire of mine, burning in me
with equal tenacity to the contrary

thought we were on one team
one side, in making art
in contributing to it, in sacrifices

I do not like writing in the dark
this handicap, this guessing game

lay eyes, lay hands
upon your pussy bare

with eyes, hands
able to touch you anywhere
without all the alarm
elicited when I, at present,
make the most innocent advance

suppose you have in mind
keep in mind

wish expressed
to ejaculate/to come in your hip

come in an opening/a passage
designed for going

come you'd have to fart or shit
to free yourself of

put off ejaculating into your being
where a new being would
commence singing, commence song
heart beating in a bean, germinating

bean vine eventually, full of leaves,
and beans in pods for Shelly


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 10:55 p.m., Friday, Oct. 15 and
4:42 p.m., Saturday, Oct.16, 2010

Close Apart
for D.B.A.

i.
afraid of ending up
like one sort of insect or another
in a taxidermist's collection

with a long needle passing through you
and into whatever is desired
for you to be stuck to
for you to adhere to

my dick through you
ending in the mattress of the bed

another woman in the collection of women
I'd have fucked right through,
affixed to a list- to my mattress

another woman to come in, to go in,
to come in again

when are you coming over
blouse over your head
panties to climb out of
pussy to bare

beer or wine or Gin
what should we have along with sexual intercourse

virgin to break open, to bark like jelly coconut
water in the shell to put to my head
to soak my bed or a bloody mattress instead

ii.
how contradictory
in spite of antipathy
I can hardly bear the signs, the sound
of her love

knowing it is there
however much she covers it up, disguises it
unable to prevent it
bursting through upon occasion

like sunlight in the morning
through cracks in a wooden building
through cracks where windows, where doors
do not fit or close properly

or in the woods, in the early morning
dew covered still, the sun
through limbs and leaves

unable to shut up or shut off or shut out
her love for me completely

now and then, it squeaks through
into my world, my eyes
and I witness what is difficult to withstand

especially because
this witness is alternated
with being kept in the dark

intoxicated by it because
not used to it

I thought
something had happened to you, she said
why I called her at school

like what, I asked, you mean like something bad
yes, she said

as if she'd forgotten
that he who watches over Israel
and watches over her
watches over me too


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written on Wednesday, October 13,
2010, between 2:15 p.m. & 3:22 p.m.

Jack In the Back Trunk
for D.B.A

i.
have I spoon fed you
or have I breastfed you
to your present strength and size and capabilities
poetically, artistically

bird in a nest or with a nest of tiny ones
regurgitating sustenance
out of itself, into its young
breast milk for baby, sap to suck, to sup on

she is nasty, unappreciative, it is time to move on

time to prop her up no longer, leave her to go on
whatever she has gathered, has gained, has learned

out on a limb, she must walk on her own and fly
or take flight or attempt to

she thinks she belongs among eagles already
thinks she is able to take to the sky

thinks she is able to fly among stars
fall like stars, rise like suns, like moons, like me

thinks she's a planet already
not just a plant I planted a week ago
watering still, pruning, grooming still

leaves and birds' wings, wings of butterflies
other insects and flower petals
all one family, all by one creator made

has she all her leaves, is she bushy enough yet
to place in the window
to advertise the business we're in
our little shop of horrors, our little store of roses

this and nothing more to sustain our lives,
our love affair

ii.
dash off a line or two, two or three words
to you I adore

worship and cuss you without end
upend you until
you lift your weight yourself
for us to do our business
to get our business done

without having to wrestle
without the contest loving you at times is

resist because I might push you too far
shove it too far
farther than you are able or prepared
to accommodate

God alone knows though what you are equip for
made you for my equipment, I am sure

like the jack in the back trunk of a car
and the bag of tools and wrenches

designed to fit the vehicle they come with
the nuts and bolts, the tire iron

made for each other on so many levels
in so many ways
spiritually, physically, intellectually

we get to try out the latter always
others to outpour in your tank
to have more and more to thank God for

iii.
what if she fell in
what if she falls in
what if this were true and not false
and she fell in love

no one- nothing to catch her but love
her big butt upon the horse back of love
to ride it through mid-air
will she join me eventually, walking on air

out of the blue, into love falling, fallen
when she thought she was beyond
such a weakness, when she assumed
she hadn't the strength to trust
to let life and what happens
happen to us and to herself

what if she fell in love out of the blue
into my beating heart, into my two arms

iv.
at times,
in some things,
in some ways
you are nearer 30

at other times, gears shifting
and you are 13 or 12

years younger than your actual 18
going on 19

you change ages like you change clothes

v.
late for SAT, 8 o'clock Saturday morning
no time for breakfast or to brush her teeth
no time to loose out her hair to fix it again

no time for anything
but to throw off and to throw on
what was nearest at hand

went out, she said, lookin' like
come here lem mur fix yur

my baby in need of fixing
know how she's able to fix herself up
doll herself up when time permits

recall that evening, off to NAGB
Philip and I kept waiting until she appeared

the door opened
and she revealing this and that
and here and there

upon her feet, a pair of shoes
with heels about 6 inches tall
straps across her two small feet
cover no more than slippers would

she was dressed to the nines
as the saying goes
what ever dressed to the nines means

test time though, time for SAT
just before 8 a.m., Saturday morning
and there wasn't even time for Eliot's

there will be time to prepare a face
to meet the faces that we meet
not even time to brush her teeth

washed sleep from her face, from her eyes
and off she ran, and off she went


© Obediah Michael smith, 2010
Written between 9:30 a.m.,
Friday, October 8 and 11:01 a.m.,
Sunday, October 10, 2010

Cover Off
for D.B.A.

living with people, your blood relatives
how knotted up things get,
how complicated, how complex
so much lived, you are unable to unknot

home is the place where you take your shoes off
where you release your flatulence
where you let loose your shit
let spout your piss

home is where you are- where you get naked
others do too, shit and piss mix

she and I on the phone through all this
through dicks and pussies, hymns and movies
songs she'd sing

through English, broken and fixed
Spanish and French, written and spoken

run into a roadblock, a road sign,
a dirt road, a narrow lane
pussy all these eons and still not paved

puppy, hush puppies,
when you have secrets to hide or to cover up
must take shoes off, socks off

not out to leave footprints in sand
not a walk along the beach, but to walk softly
must make no noise, wake no one

along the corridor a pussy is
if it purrs, "Shhh!" ask it to hush

hush in the house or in the poem
what if birds sing out or about
what must remain enigma, enigmatic

what if dogs barked or rooster crowed,
cococaroocoo, woke up lies, woke up
what was covered up

who was covered up, asleep naked
see or saw what you should not have
who you should not have

what if Jacob killed Esau
what if David sent Uriah
off to the front of battle
to be able to have Bathsheba

oh the rub of who are
or what is too familiar

I, in a house, so many secrets in it
in it, I live alone
with books, with paintings, movies, CDs
with a girl I'm attached to

brings me joy, brings me down
and with a few genuine friends
in and from places around the world

what rushes into and out of
a too quickly beating heart

know that I deserve better
than to be awfully treated
by an 18 year old
arrogant, conceited, impolite
and in addition, so lacking in confidence

what emotional support can she provide
with her own secrets to hide
things to cover up or take the cover off

because boiling over
what is in it, running down the sides
into the fire, turning blue flames red


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
6:32 a.m. 06.10.10

In the Shadow of the Cross
for Mia Gloria Smith
on her birthday

you make the cross look light
like fun to carry,
to contend with

carrying cross
dancing and sweating
pretty and playful

two fists of, I love you
for who could read
for deaf mutes or for who is bilingual

she hot lookin'
in what looks like
a man's undershirt
it fits her like the sweat upon her
salty, sweet

what a girl on the dance floor
full of mischief

my heart full a her
her heart full a me

her dog and me, she says
love her unconditionally

love she feels most deeply
sustained by us

we're sustained by her
by her daring

how all out she is
how all out she goes

not like stars going out
instead like stars being born
coming on
when the sun goes down


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
12:45 p.m. 08.10.10

School Girl Crush
for D.B.A.

when I upset her, cuss her,
overturn her pussy like an apple cart
or turn her pussy wrong-side-out

she is at times like those- at times like these
more mine than ever

I must upset her, undo her braids
to have her all to myself

miss having her all to myself
miss her near me- inside me so
I am teary-eyed

she misses me also
it has been about a week
we have not fucked
I know her pussy twitchin' fur piece

leave it to her to put into words
I'd never know

how many months has our affair lasted

say since March of this year
when it intensified
when the bottom fell out
and we together entered profound
entered profundity

going on 7 months
and not once has she said,
Obi, I'm having my period

always let her know when mine is on

what though is the relationship between
when her menstrual blood is flowing
when her pussy mouth is bloody
and when her poetry is flowing


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
11:21 a.m. 08.10.10

Lil Piece a Lil Piece
for Sparkles & Stan & Dennie
& D.B.A. & Jace
& Dawn & Amos

i.
tinted windows
how could I tell who was waving

then I knew who it was
all of a sudden

urge to cross the road against traffic
as impossible as it seemed
wanted more than to wave
that you waved and that I waved back

thought to cross the road,
thought to force heavy traffic
to pause

wanted to plant a kiss upon your lips
as thirsty as this for you
thirsting for you for days

since it seems exclusivity is,
these days, a difficulty
an impossibility almost
and we must share
who we thought our own

to love another man's woman,
another man's wife,
what we all must contend with,
accept

must love however,
wherever it is found
wherever- however it springs up

love for you springing up
and thirst only you can quench

thirst I could quench, ages ago,
with a fruit punch soda or two
or six in a day, in the store
on a day in summer

it would have been near suicidal
with traffic as it was,
to cross the street to seek a kiss

would you have wanted one,
would you have wanted too, I wonder

would you have permitted it
permitted kiss, our lips-
permitted us to be intimate

for an instant, not separate
as close as the end of June
and the beginning of July

ii.
uuh! they look so pretty
why can't I look pretty like that
with somebody- will I ever

Stan and Dennie
window of a jeep lowered
to receive me, to receive
payment on a painting

lovely, clean couple
such pretty colors
blouse and shirt

hers aqua-green
his shirt checkered
prettiest checkers
I have ever seen

without camera or movie camera
unable to show you exactly

reflect upon how lovely they look
how comfortable, how extra tidy

reflect upon the couple they are
how neatly fitted, how neat fitting
and I succumb to tears
to briefly weeping over my own life

a poet in the rain with a pen
and where has my art gotten me
where have I gotten in life
where have my steps lead

my wife/no wife is just 18
who I have, I haven't

naught but poetry
which this relationship produces

like sweat, like tears
often times, tears actually
I tear actually

in contrast, how whole
Stan and Dennie look
how whole they are

jeep to go home in
through the rain

iii.
checkers on the church floor
want to play anyone
anyone want to play

your move, my move
until we get to heaven
or to its gate

checkmate and you or I
allowed to enter

iv.
I must genuflect
to this other relationship

I must accept
being treated like crap
treated like shit
being shat upon
in exchange for gifts

I must be stupid

admit I'm in love
my heart constricts
when love clutches it
admit I cry when by love shaken

helpless, hopeless
determined though
to recover from this
from its grip, from your grip

v.
little muffin I hafta share wit' him
fuck dat

if you want him ta have it
let him, I'll eat elsewhere
seek sweets elsewhere

what I gur do with
lil piece a sumtin
lil piece a lil piece

what gur leave my belly growlin'

belly growlin'
an' I growlin’
angry

vi.
because all of your crimes
are committed on paper

because all or most of them
occur in the imagination
why you manage
to remain free of prison

why you manage to remain
out of the hands of the law

crimes committed on paper
who polices these

how do you offend on paper
who does not read
or seldom does

vii.
you have to mean it when you do it
Amos did, I do, Dawn does

like art like air
drink it like water
art in your blood


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 3 p.m., Wednesday,
October 6 and 5:15 p.m. Thursday,
October 7, 2010

On A Cold Concrete Porch
for D.B.A.

i.
want to wash my face in V
where your thighs meet
or is W what is formed there
to eat into, to bite into

warm milk to go with it
does it come with it

wash my face before I eat breakfast
has a cat bad breath

it stretches and yawns
licks its tongue out, day to get into

oh the things I have to do
in addition to sing of you
worship and adore you

I hope not instead of-
not in place of God above
our maker, word giver

you bring him nearer,
you are his handiwork in my hand

my head, my face
in what is delicious

as a cat's milk in a saucer
or pie pan on the floor
I lap up, I lap at

laugh at me all you like
because I am a fool in love

such a fool for you, so helpless
you divided girl

will he and I
be at your funeral weeping
were you to predecease us both

might we turn to each other then
two men, two friends
instead of rivals

or you two at my funeral
though you weep, he happy
to be rid of me finally

rid of poetry arriving
full of desire for you
full of fire for you

full of whatever words I choose
to use, however loose

to attempt to make
your pussy hole leak
the liquids of love

ii.
do I know her better
love her better than anybody

as kept out as I am
locked out, left out

left to sleep upon the porch
upon cold concrete
rather than up against you naked

two spoons
but not cold stainless steel

you and I breathing, alive
in bed, in love


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
written between 11:10 a.m.
and 12:05 p.m., on Monday,
Oct. 4, 2010

Inspiration Rain
for D.B.A.

what occurred
that day we were
in conversation on the phone
when August rain began to fall

the wind blowing it
into my open windows

in addition to the link
to the song she sent, "Who Let In the Rain"
inspired, she wrote a poem
of the rain falling, pouring down

about the rain in a stream
down her spine, hers
or a woman she invented

that poem of hers,
though it went elsewhere

it began with the lines, with the words
pantiless, penniless
later changed to
without panties, without pennies

remember asking, excited
rain falling still, as I'd concluded reading
her fresh-new, brand-new poem

am I to take it that this was inspired
by the fact that, at present,
you are not wearing panties

I will not answer that,
she responded abruptly
not wanting poem or poetry
connected to fact especially not
if the fact was still fact

wanted to be in a room
in the rain with her
or in a room with her
with the rain outside, falling

in a room with her
with the rain falling outside
with her with no panties on

even knowing
that it was her pussy that was bare
her legs that were wide
enjoying the cool, summer rain-breeze
she thought too much to share

too much for me to be aware
wanting to avoid my having
a hard on I suppose
I had a hard on anyway

and several since that poem was just written
since that August day the rain came down
and the rain blew in

her and me in conversation on the phone
hold on, I had to say
to run, to push down with a bang
and another and another
my push up windows


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
4:12 p.m. 27.09.10

Salmon Flesh
for D.B.A.

i.
she can be really lowdown
fighting over pork chop

cussing, threatening to move out
because sister or brother
bit into something

she left in the refrigerator
to drink or to eat

and now and then
I am turned upon similarly

the same cuss words
the same contempt

when she finds it- thinks it's necessary
to retaliate, to lash out, to lash me
with cusses, with cuss words

when all
I am ever deserving of
are sweet words and kisses

ii.
God have mercy
have mercy
have mercy

make her mine
make her mine
make her mine

she is too beautiful not to be
I love her too much
for it to be otherwise

nothing in this world
that I'd insist upon as much

pray for with such fervor
than to have her
to commit to me
committed to me

she thought
my bare belly
her bare belly
was a beer belly
she silly

whose beer belly
would I
cover with ice cream

a dozen or so scoops
to eat off, to eat up
to lick up, to lap up

that she has a boyfriend
that she is divided,
is for me,
no laughing or light matter

tired as hell, oh God
of losing women I love

like air out of tires
like a car with flat tires

unable to go
or to get anywhere

she and I with places to go
things to get done

oh, good God, in heaven
I want the world changed

there is something
I neglected- I forgot
to hand over,
to give to her

dimes, a few I had
to place upon
her thighs bare
her bare thighs

open
with her pussy parted
for me to kiss it


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 2:10 p.m.
and 7:55 p.m., on Sunday,
Oct. 3, 2010