Wilderness, Poetry, Sex

: red grasses underwater, flat
with the weight of water
also a blue and yellow oar
also a blue spot on the river floor
maybe a portal 

stone cold sober I say to you
for years a connoisseur of
pleasure then cast those
fellows out      and now
when people ask after my lusts
I do yes glance awayward
: towards the sagebrush
: towards the petroglyphs
: towards the feed lots where
thru slats in the pens
a dark eye, a dark eye, a dark eye 

the passions move thru us
like phosphorous
burning away the subtleties  
burning away the nonsense

having called the kind custodian
to mop up the flood
having locked myself in the ugly building
to get some poetry done
I a decadent lady 


the body in space, the abject body
the body’s limits, the absent body 

or, in the glove compartment
I find a cock ring 

us like phosphorous

I live at the edge of the
desert             the screen
sears my “bad” eye
which lets in too much



to the cosmic are we transparent
said the holy whore/ 


when you see thru to essence
: say, come three times in a row :
how jarring, this travelling
back from the kingdom of desire    
which was also the kingdom
of suffering so that
for months I pushed
over the hills
a Sorrow Cart 

sorrow sorrow!
sorrow sorrow!


boots muddied I the shittiest demiurge did lay me down


and the Lord said of pure light
You will not be able to see it as long as you
are carrying flesh around

I think this is because he was not a woman
and so limited in experience
as per when I wade into the river there is penetration
or, what a really good cock can do
or, how in the desert
the metal signs [NO
shot up
by slow-witted boys w/ rifles and then
the sky

not to mention the non-literal signs


we the all of us do not know our righteous labor

the body in space, the penetrated body
the body’s limits, the excelsiored body 

there was a mountain called Divination and Joy
I lived there, begettress of mercy, one uber palpable lady

and took my lush excess on down the trail
and waited for the owls to call