A Large, Smelly Beast
Small packs of children
Laugh hysterically as
I crush rotten vegetables
In the huge excavating
Machine that is my maw,
And there's a crescendo
Of hoots as I lather my
Thick hide in a cologne
Of mud and feces then
Saunter over to mount
My bulldozer of a girlfriend.
You'll surmise I'm a sluggard
As the homosapien hoses down
My perfectly fitting hide,
But I've seen them carry
Seven generations of snow
Leopards out of here
And while you were mocking
Your wife was home
Fucking the Great Dane.
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| I remember writing a lot of the poems in the first half of Submerged Structure on a yellow legal pad on the porch on one of my frequent layoffs from the service industry. |
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