Translate

Monday, August 30, 2010

Last Retreat

Much like a stuffed deer
you hang

on the wall
Still climbing that limb we shook all night long
we were young free frolicking fucking in that forest
I never wanted to leave

So the axe cut and the hammer pounded
and made our forest home
The Sap still bleeds from the timber
and you stick your hand on it
then your calf
then your waist
and your face
until
you hang

I try to knock you down with a broomstick but you cry,
you cry doves that now nest on the ground
and if I could build a forest for you
I would

No comments:

Post a Comment