The things that matter
white tights to cover unshaven legs
ones that will not likely be razed
red, silken shorts to cover up
the female's demonized body
rubber and plastic - one's trash
represent freedom: my treasure
wheels, and away I go
to the places I'll live someday...
melted snow puddles shimmering
delighted to muddle the ice
a rocky road is no deterrent
spring's first gentle current:
a breeze - balmy and beautiful
(as the unseen can always be)
kissing my hands, though days ago
it ripped and ravaged
rolling of clinging blouse -
is this allowed?
the same wind grazes my stomach
and tickles my fancies
of flying free
a leather glove three fingers clenching
nothing
the index pointing at the sogging swamp
honks of geese clatter cumulus clouds
clashing and colliding with falcon screech:
these are the things I love
three puppies, quivering with energy
the old and relaxed restless loose
wet tongues speak to ungloved fingers
the snatch of spring soars also
through the laden air
America's black and white leopards
feasting on grain (through metallic bars)
that will soon feast on their flesh
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