Last Night I Made Love With Spiderwoman
Clawlike fingers or are they nails painted bird fell on my windowsill calling my name ‘Felicity, Felicity!’ I gelled up with some cookie dough between the thighs crunch curse not the CXurse is kvnt open fingers entering oww ooh she nearly bit me neck bite tethered in braces she hovers over my lips sucking are they fangs? Kiss with golden tongue frolicking in the mouth so succulent her breath on my face lips of sweet papaya mango Mimi munchkin morning melt desirous delirous galavanting throw me over your shoulder WonderWoman! No she tells only the most serendipitous sensuous salts steaming from her brow hot legs shoot from the hip she has a gun it’s loaded pistol on your piston gunfire upload bullet for hire powderworks hut battle of the she grrls beautiful one last night I made love with Spiderwoman
You can travel the four thousand miles of the Nile
to its source and never find it.
You can climb the five highest peaks of the Himalayas
and never recognize it.
You can gaze through the largest telescope
and never see it.
Arthur Sze
To be a part of landscape
From a distance landscape has a
recognizable outline.
A skin mite, grazing fleshy meadows
grotesque microscopic cow,
has no concept of the human form it feeds from.
Just as a mountain in close proximity
is no longer symbolic of its form,
romance and the imagination of it
is reduced to a frozen, physical obstruction
that is a challenge to survival.
The skin mite tumbles, a huge force
has torn it's clawlike hooves from
living apertures, it falls
with flakes of dead turf into a
depthless void, unoticed
by the scratcher,
and the mountain climber sees the
blinding wall of snow that
flashes by him as he falls,
unoticed by the mountain.
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