Comments Inbox
| |
About This Poem
Incestuous Youth
Late afternoon surfers
clasp the wind-swollen waves
to chests rounded and tanned,
jut-nippled and muscular --
the scent of their youth
fresh as the salt air.
They ride the belly-quivers
of the fecund green sea,
endless, undulating, incestuous --
the common watery womb
which bore us all.
|
|
|