— With gratitude to T.S.E.
There is power in the left toe,
not unlike an orgasm
or a sneeze.
Or being struck by lightening
on the beach at Venice
while pulling down our pants.
for a brief interlude
followed by a shortness of breath.
The mermaids are singing out at sea,
the bees are drowning in their honey;
old men hide in imaginary caves
to draw pictographs on each other’s dirty faces.
Farther out at sea, the mermaids trade embraces
while we, lying on the shore,
brush the sand from each other’s thighs
while listening to the moon’s laments,
the mermaids’ sighs.