Tuesday, November 02, 2010

69 Lines
for D.B.A.

what if air were withheld
as she withholds herself from me

stingiest bit imaginable
so very infrequently

and she expects me to survive
and to survive on her alone

expects that neglect is sufficient
would suffice

limits me cruelly to little or nothing

a sip now and then
for who'd give her any and everything
and often does

ain't no body do me like Jesus
ain't no body do me or can do me
like the Lord

similarly, ain't no body do me,
does me or can do me like she does

even if she does not do me at all sufficiently
or sufficiently frequently

no body able to let me down
or to uplift me exactly as she does

need her to do me,
to do me do me do me

don't need her to undo me
I unravel then, I'm undone then

I only hope she'll have mercy
Jesus I know already does
and always will

speaking again, are we
or cussing each other still
cussing each other stink

accusing, blaming
seeing who, in spite of what is
moral, what is just, will be left
feeling indebted

who will be left holding- having
the upper hand, walking tall
carrying the big stick

who will be master and who slave
in this relationship

affair with love, affair of lovers
or what are we, horse handlers

manipulative hands, out to squeeze out
all we can, from the dishrag of romance

while we're washing the dishes
dishing up dinner

in the kitchen, dining room, bath room
or bed room

what room of the house
have we not visited
with our lovemaking

or run to out of love
full of laughter or in tears

I tear, you tear
and we mend
at times too slowly

mountain goat
at the foot of the hill
when morning comes

when the sun is descending
must be where
a mountain goat belongs
chewing its cud, contented

I am contented
writing you a love poem
when all is well between us
when nothing stands between us

you and me, bare, breathing,
appetite for each other and for air

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written on Monday, November 1, 2010
between 7 p.m. and 10:10 p.m.


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