Graspings #3

These days
I have often felt the wild crushing
Of a blue Whale
Of what I didn’t tell you
These baubles that never come.

“We’ll wait for them,”
You told me in some dream,
When I sent forth silence into your cup.

Don’t you know, Whale,
Of silly superstitions?
“Orpheus you turned to look at me…”

But these days of patience and gaze
Are now gone.
Time has started sticking
Like barnacles on your belly.
Your children are bountiful
You smile of years.

We will crush, Whale,
We will crush the mighty ocean with our longing.

And I won’t ask you,
Won’t ask at all,
Because summers have never been lovelier
Than in memories,

Than etched in skin.

©hRj2007


Graspings #3 Ver.2

These days,
You Goddamn Whale,
Fucking junkie Wail!
I have kept the cat in the bag,
Securely knotted. And all you do
Is tongue, tongue against
My cheek.

“We’ll wait for it”
You told me in some dream,
And will you? I asked, I plead
On my knees. Silence is Overrated.
A blood clot
Of my condition.
Deep vein thrombosis is
Overrated.

Don’t you know, you turtle faced Whale,
Of womanly superstitions?
“Orpheus, you dumb motherfucker…”

And these days of patience and gay
Are now gone,
Time has started sticking
Like the cum on your leg
After climax.
But now that you have children
From your philandering ways,
You will always smell like yearning,
Smile like penetration.

We will crush, Whale,
We will crush the mighty ocean with our psychosis.

And I won’t ask you,
Won’t ask myself at all,
Because the cat’s struggles
Have never scratched deeper
Than in the bag,

In its air-tight bag.

©hRj2007

I play I play