subcutaneous microchip

I've got a subcutaneous microchip

implanted in my amygdala

or maybe in my

left orbitofrontal cortex

or maybe it's back in my hippocampus

itches occasionally

damn!

maybe it's in my

frontomedian cortex

can't get ahold of it

don't believe the aliens put it there

but it sure as hell is

hard to scratch

elegy for Beth Showell

the movers came in today

told me to remove all my stuff

somebody else needed the space

I took down the paintings

placed on the wall so carefully

over the years

slowly at first

then angrily --

tossed them in a box

been in this room so long

it feels like a body

times change, and the seasons

bushes are getting green again

though the pine tree out back has lost its hue

strange how it goes with trees

the day the old bishop died

they chopped down his maple

on the street the stones are piled

in irregular heaps

the stones that the builder refused

stones now beginning to shine

gleaming like emeralds, ruby and topaz

gems in the city walls, perfect in beauty

you were in Eden once

and every precious stone adorned you

sapphire, onyx and jasper

on the street the stones are piled

in irregular heaps

the stones that the builder refused

rabbits among cornstalks

extravagant!



black eyed susans, tiger lilies, opulent vulvae

ope to my quivering touch

for I am king of the garden

of fleshly delights



in your dreams



obstreperous strumpet, yo!

all the satiny petals of

His Majesty's garden flutter

and tremulously unfold before me

for my delectation



you wish



slattern!

there shall come a moment

when your oer-stretched desires

mount up in quavering waves of longing, in short

you will beg for it



big talker





you know you really want it
you know you really want it
you know you really want it




bad