Neruda’s flea

Skins skins all the clothes
people baring teeth know of
like the first eating of boars,
the first tusk ever mounted
on the neck of a carnivore,
that is the brilliance
that blinded suns unknown
who wish too they’d witness
nodding their charges off
we here together. All the parts
I’d spend my flesh for
are free, like water, like air,
let me blow you an anthem
I got stored away
for rainy days when it
feels good to go naked.
Don’t catch cold. Catch what
I can throw with my ball arm,
pivot on this tower
of bone I inherited
from long-ago dancers.
After this I’ll light
the bed on fire for fleas
might tell of what we did.
They might never leave us
out of jealousy. They eat
and run off, unlike us,
who don’t understand fullness
and so wreck until
the thought of you
sickens me like a bum
eating fifty pounds of steak,
so work it off, swim in my head
because the water is cool
and there’s plenty more room.

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~ by Jeremy on January 28, 2011.

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