Imagine, if you will, a body tight
with stress; add a mind pickled with booze;
throw in a heart grown cynical by night,
by day asleep; put in the daily news
to taste; cowardice will keep the blend
alive, no falling soufle here; somewhere
there must be a past, memories of when
the world was right; yes, the mouth can drool
a bit; a tired dick grotesquely hangs
its chicken's neck southward like a fool
(a dick always points northward when it bangs):
all this - and then let enter Special She.
Witness resurrection of the He.
"A woman needs a man like a fish
needs a bike," she said before she kissed
him on the lips. Wondering what he missed,
he kissed back, which he later wished
he hadn't done because the police just stared
at him as he stammered through the story
that was his version of events, how sorry
he was about the whole thing, more weird
than anything else, there had been no rape
at all, unless his tongue was charged, and she
had started that, this he guaranteed,
he was a gentleman and not an ape.
Q: what in common have King Kong and Tristan?
A: a fish, a bike, an ape . . . Woman and Man.
When love is in the heart, the body waits
its turn. The fire in the heart can burn
without a need to touch: when lovers learn
this silence, they learn much. When passion baits
too quick a touch, then lovers can create
the parameters of their very doom.
The body when ablaze has little room
for heart - despite the myths of how we mate.
Patience is a virtue when in love.
The best that we can be takes time to grow.
True lovers find a way to rise above
their own desire, and to hold it so.
But ah!, when body gets its turn to speak,
the bed is all ablaze for weeks and weeks . . .
Charles Deemer
These are from Seattle Sonnets.
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