Saturday, May 20, 2006

Something to Scream About

Things I Have Lost

Where have you gone—
slit clean in five minutes
when your walls expanded
to fit the boy—young, proud
and raw, like a newborn creature
searching for the breast. And, I was
the amusement park ride where the small,
8-passenger boats pass through, where
Pirates search for stolen jewels, coins,
gold-trimmed goblets, reams of silk.
Oh, how men line up like eager boats
for the 20-foot drop, the waterfall,
yearn to feel their stomachs drop
their hearts race, to feel the splash and spray
at the sudden dark depths,
until all that remains is the tender throb,
and the sound of their own voices
banging against the cave walls
like the pulse of a machine.

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