singing the body electric...

painting by Erik Thor Sandberg © 

dryads and the old man

gravity

coitus

recite thus

poem to

pierce

point

and cut

moment

ready skin

it wasn’t about you

or me nor yours

or my relativity

we both knew

it was spawn

or undertow

material evaluation

we were worth

part hive

and solitude

standing in front

of the mirror nude

drapes askew

and pulled aside

we were always

going to be

fresh meat sometimes

a sown ripe waiting

watering the wine

wading white noises

we would always

have a dark

that we closed our eyes for

even in the brightest daylight

a dark that could tell

we smell the circuses when afraid

the molecules and grazed

the intestines and bivalves

the bicuspids and grinders

the torn and omnivore

among us

we whore the farm for asphalt

and a vane veined culture

a slaughter-housed bleed

a corpse soylent need

sirens calling on our greed

and finally 

tell me

while I get

the check

are we dessert bound

or another play by play

collecting stones

rain to remember

in ancient culls

of rivers, seasons

and tides

EJR ©