Chicano Poet

Thursday, May 09, 2013

Of Lovers Lent To Us

Bent back
form the suspicious limb

as it were

her lips
of bright night

could cheat
could fathom

could rile
simmering moon

in the cauldron
of a sick sea

and those
who despised them

for what
love was.


Anxious to get
to see her

the fine glass
he wove into his eye

the blood
he'd brought from song

whatever was wrong with right
grew in his chest

the blaring siren
of a fingernail

is nothing to man without woman
the metal of desire

oozes up from nowhere
leprosy of the sun

as they make love
with broken and nervous necks.


Post a Comment

<< Home