"Softly Whispering I Love You"
---English Congregation--1972
It was a kind of rife
tactically attempting
doggy on a waterbed
Or contemplating True
Inseam in the clang of bells
and platforms.
The 50th ponders
perspective that I have,
and knees that I don’t.
My wife wants to
scout out an old
flame of mine
and I want to
avoid the palpable
mysteries of antiquity
and such like
boats disappearing
from the waterfronts
this fall in Maine
The deciduous marina
softly whispering
I love you.
The world has forever
outgrown itself,
its pants no longer fit
The cuffs too short,
the waist too tight,
its inseam worn and ripped
The fabric that
it used to grow,
lay barren in the field
The magic that
it used to show,
a sleight of hand reveal
The world has forever
outgrown itself,
its future running out
The earth exposed,
the sky on fire
—all life but hand to mouth
(Dreamsleep: March, 2022)
Different sins...
Lusting after a man I've never met
Wrathful of the woman he's with now
Envious of the way he caresses her
Lusting for the inseam at his pants
Gluttony at the dinner table, rubbing my foot up his leg in private, while drinking wine
I'm too proud to wait for him to be done with her; it should be over sooner
Greedily I still entice him every chance I get, to join me in my bed
Although he is still hers...somewhat
I noticed just the other day
when I turned my blue jeans inside out,
a curious little grin in my
penny pocket.
Just a happenstance left
on the whim of a Friday morning
on the 5th.
Left for such a time as today
when
my inseam is too short,
my soles are too tall,
your voice is still and small
and
my soul is numb, after all.
I fall into your heart on the page
and know
that soon there will be a time ...
love you Hansen.
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