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TENDER LOVE SONG
Hold my hands, kiss my glands,
love me til a Martian lands.
Your husband—well, I hope he understands.
How I hunger for your
all-devouring,
totally all-encompassing,
far-beyond-guilt-or-shame-
or-even-basic-decency touch.
I don't want much.
Now put a million kisses in a million places
and a million more where my face is.
Hold me in new impossible ways
and hang on until the Devil prays.
Love, I'm told, is divinely healing,
uplift me with your finer feeling--
put your feet right on the ceiling.
Ah, sweet Jesus, now
the stars go reeling....
I expect we'll love so hard
we'll bounce into the yard
and be arrested on the boulevard.
FEMME FATALITY
in my arms
she is on guard,
firing into shadows:
she lives with the safety
off
her beauty is full of shock
and blood,
limping back from battles
on the far side of affection
in her wary eyes
I can see that
each day is a minefield
she must clear
with great loss of life
high in her voice I hear
ack-ack, red and black
like furious flowers
indignant above the injured land
at night she curls up
in her wounds
and sleeps the sleep
of the unburied dead
in the morning she gazes at
crumbled maps, planning
to strike first;
as every soldier knows,
love is hell
ON THE OCCASION OF ELIZABETH'S DIVORCE
When God invented girls and boys,
He found they were his favorite toys.
He likes to watch them play for keeps.
Dear God, thanks heaps.
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