Thursday, December 09, 2010

Let Out More Line
for D.B.A.

are you sure going to St. Andrew's
hasn't gone to your head

I thought St. Andrew's students
would all be cultivated, cultured
not ill mannered, impolite, inconsiderate

attending St. Andrew's does not at all mean
that it is where you're from

you come from where you belong
to go to school

at school, pupils
from so many backgrounds gather

from a great variety of levels

or layers of society
are these pupils drawn

here is where the contradiction is
though you chose, because you're there
to put it down, a height you’ve jumped

now no big deal, small things, small change
what you have overcome, having gotten in

you know the status it has
and otherwise

this you're glad to be part of
to buy into, how ever high the regard
however undeserved or undeserving
glad to take in, taste of, swill, swallow

but are we closer, is the question
ups and downs and ins and outs
are we after all, after each day passes
are we closer, do we know each other better
are we adding up to better acquainted
to better understanding

am I, through her- is she through me
leading to her knowing herself-
to my knowing myself better

oh what a sculptor does, chip away
and when the chipping away is over
what is left far surpasses the marble
before the chipping away began

are we chipping away at each other
as aggressively as we do
with some end in mind

are we creating or recreating each other
like seeing all the hair fall
upon the barber shop floor
but what is left is something
more than before
the cutting away commenced

treats me like who she thinks I am
treat her like who I think she is

what of when all this guessing goes away
all this estimating
and we know clearly who each other is
and we can relate with our real selves
our true selves

and knowing who each other is
we could trust- would know
what to expect
rather than some fictional her,
some fictional me to deal with
to relate to
when the real her and the real me
are available to interact with

Oh God, let fall away,
what or who we imagine
each other to be
make available, the truth
to stand before, bare

bare before the burning bush
of what- of who is real

why can we not have our relationship
why must you say no to it

we have a relationship
why can't we- why don't we own it
why must you insist upon
its sleeping out of doors
like a hardly wanted pet

why must it be fed
scraps that you feed it
that you feed us

your reaction to us, how you teat us
makes you a creature
of the cruelest kind

something very masculine
about that girl

I suppose there is
something very feminine
about the boy that I am

I feel like a girl up against
the brash, abrupt, awkward boy
that she is so comfortable being
cold and crude and rude and callous

what if I had a dick, she asked me once
would you love me still

maybe she does, maybe she has
why I often these days,
find her as difficult as I do to love
find it as difficult as I do
to love her

she'd go good with peas soup
could she cook it, I wonder

dumpling that she is
would only have to fall into the pot

have your cake and eat it too
eat your dumplings
and have them too

how old is she now, my friend's mom
but a young, bright boy when
his mom and I were lovers

God, how did we ever fall into love making
taught her a position or two
entirely new to her, she was fascinated

what a lover of sex she was
unable, hardly ever, to get enough
I had to measure up, had to keep it up

had to have her sex,
she said it was her weakness
in spite of how religious she was
quoting scripture, talking profoundly
about God and Christ,
about the Holy Spirit
but so much it was sickening
but how sweet was sex
it was sweet for her too

so sweet that when she had
or neared an orgasm
she, with her tongue,
pushed forth, pushed out
her two or three, false, front teeth

not caring that I saw, that I knew
she had teeth missing

one girl, oh how I miss her
how sweet she was,
when she neared orgasm,
she shoved her tongue into my nose
into one nostril or the other

now that was extraordinary
oh how she and I together
folded and unfolded

that was an affair
outstanding among affairs
I'd not tell you how we met
or where we met

both of these relationships occurred
in Freeport, on Grand Bahama Island

I can imagine them happening
no where else on earth

© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
Written between 7:30 p.m.
on Wednesday, 8th December
and 2:00 p.m., Thursday,
9th December 2010


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