Friday, September 14, 2012

When a Whale Comes Up for Air
for D'Anthra B. Adderley
was having intercourse with you all along
aware of that now, now that our status has been altered
now that we have been temporarily reclassified

but have we, actually, is that no more than superficial
our attachment, where it matters, sustains, deep down

can all that we've accumulated be reversed
all the tiny little connections, experiences

my yard is being addressed as I am writing, by the way
things being uprooted, overgrowth being chopped down

I can smell the sweet strong smell of soil being overturned
what was growing in it, pulled from it

made an arrangement- came to an agreement after all
or at long last - things happen when the time comes

how long you and I have held out, separated
unable to endure that anymore

with my phone off at present, you'd have to respond by e-mail
or connect by Skype, though Skype I do not like

how many tangents away from where I started-
from what I was directing at you initially

3:14 p.m., noises of children
from Uriah McPhee Primary School going by

two worlds through us are attached
the plug was pulled out, need it plugged in again

I have, for going on two weeks,
been living in the dark as it were
living with so much less to live for

admit that you've been suffering too
as much as me or more

you fat slob, you sweet pussy bitch
woman of mine from time to time

your two timing crime
for which you should be incarcerated

sentenced to life, to hard labor
on the chain gang or to hard labor
on my hard cock

until you learned what- learned who
you were living for

longing for crabby, wet, while in class,
doing your school work

crabby wet in the middle of a lecture
distracted by thoughts of
our perpetual intercourse

Oh, God, am I going to be able to deliver
when the time comes, her big crabby,
small and tight about my cock up in her

will she holler because it hurts
or because it was too sweet to bear

inserted in her/insert it in her
will she suck it first, insure
that it was hard enough and long enough
to open heaven-
to make it rain

Honey, my right foot, injured in Mexico,
months ago, some tiny bones dislocated
what I thought was healed entirely is not

are you whole, my darling, devoid entirely
of aches and pains- no ailments at all
to complain about

so much love and so much care
for every bone and every cell in your body
and for every strand of hair
springing anywhere
on you or from you


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2012
3:33 p.m. 14.09.12

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