2010
07.05

Who are these other people
            fucking outdoors
                     in a city square?
Somebody is filming. 
            Is this Europe, maybe
                      Amsterdam? 
            We’re all naked
but who is she? hair
             thick and uncertain, dark
                        eyes like descending souls—
             one a questing poet
                         the other its spirit 
                                   guide.
              She sits in a half-lotus and talks
of her apartment, of our going
              there.  From here
                           I can glimpse
              into her secrets, past
                           my own public
                                     intentions. 
               I say,
“Would you mind if I first do
               something with this wicked
                             hard-on?”
                She agrees.  I start
to mount her, but awaken, unsure 
                 I even made it 
                              inside.

 

© Scott Weiss, 2010