PLUNGE

PLUNGE

by all means
take
the plunge

by all means
rationalize your way clear
plunge
into bed with me

Benjamin and Joe
about to
play the
holocaust
card

cannot
help themselves
determined to
plumge us
into holiest
darkness

in the pursuit of
great principle wipe
out
   tiniest speck of life

stitch us all up good
everything sewn up
good and solid

God’s great
gamma rays

   like manna from
          above

softly
parachuting down

and me

          waiting for
birth of new universe
to have

any hope of loving you

so
   here this
my

                   suggestion
that you
do take the plunge

AND THEN

AND THEN

and then
there waa
no choice
no option

fate had decided
desire complied

we fell into it
this thing pleasure
embraced it
until we
got saturated

knew yout
until i could know you
no more deeply

but here
     there is always more
aleays more deeply

oceans of detail
     to touch, taste, feel

savour until the Sun
ghe Moon, the day; the dawn,
time itself dissolve

everything but you
just disappears

and then

HEPHAESTUS

HEPHAESTUS

the cripple

even Hephaestus
by dint of marriage vow and
obligation

got to fuck wife Aphrodite and her
to make pretty for him

and despite her best beauty instincts
to to thunderously climax
thinking of
lover Ares, brawny beast personified,
of his depth of
possession and strength of
control

nevertheless, thrilling her husband
with, even if not for him,
sweet loving words
whispered into her ear

much despite her better must
be what I am true
sexual goddess judgement

for this time at least
willing to do ugly if not
entirely in the cause of charity,
this somewhat
adulterated by
something
difficult to differentiate between
love
that suddenly makes
an appearance from nowhere
and pleasure, that is
what it is, and, by rule of thumb
(and fingers
and everything, should never be
withheld, denied or
unreasonably contained)

YOU ME

YOU ME

you water sign
me water sign

would I could
just dissolve right
into you

first, of course,
panper you, enter you

let you
     suit me, fit me,
to a T

all night working religiously
to synchronize, synchromesh
get gears
     of love smooth
sailimg

         faultless to the touch
zero non-tolerance
spot
   and stain-free

LOCK

LOCK

love is that
gleaming apple
too high

up
the tree

it is
the death bed of the intellectual
fatal aporia
kills
their categories

it is the puzzle
with too many pieces
for the box
infinite choice

the blurb on
the sleeve

pity barely any fit together let alone

interlock

and you told yourself
it would be all too easy

are we not
so perfectly designed for this?

BUT THEN

BUT THEN

poets marrying poets
do not do well

let me labour
the obvious: on
the one hand

Ted
   on the other

Sylvia

and on the other
      I leave that to those
scrutinizing their
letters
   delving into
           their lives

this whole enterprise
a dubious affair looking
                for dubious affairs

something
     about love and poetry

in this configuration
such a curious mismatch

amusing in a sense

    but then there is death