HANDS TO ONE'S SELF
I lucubrate; will go blind over this
masturbatory mucking with words.
They never stop coming, but I have yet to.
Either the syntax is wrong, the rhythm,
the modifiers, or philosophical conclusions.
Logos un-nterruptus: it's too much to bear.
When will satisfaction scoop me up like
an innocent newborn knowing nothing
of piqued penetrations and pains?
Maybe once I pen something for you
or you, or you, your face contorting
eyes rolling back, feet flapping, trunk lurching
like the breaking of a crazed tempestuous day.
Copyright Julianza K. Shavin 11 29 2008
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that you were on a roll. Your immense talent shines through. The
one suggestion I make is perhaps change "once" to "when" after
Maybe. but what do I know? -gene.
Regis