"Seed Pods."
I read this poem here before, and it actually
was the first poem that I wrote that belonged to this sequence,
but I didn't have the sequence then
and I didn't know where it belonged.
Seed pods seen inside while high.
Drip of fingers to the farthest limits of the thigh.
Waft of sticky fluid cypress rosin from peach valley
under walls of rock.
Ferghana horses arched rearing fucking.
Tiny seed pods caught and carried in the fur foot pad
fetlocks slipping tongue.
A paw track windfall if my seed do float into you.
Colored blood and apricot.
Weaved with thread, girls, moons,
later let it become stains on their soil ledge tilth fucking
bed.
Seed pod burs, fuzz twist tailed nut babies in my fucking head.