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Click heremiracle of growth, finger poke
thinking of him with each new hole
seedling beware, I use you
sweet alyssum, you have no clue
what lies beneath you waiting
and caladium, you're a bulbous fool
who can't see a thing
buried among the hollyhock
roots and catnip seeds
index finger with push so slight
enter with breath held, hoping
too deep, no sprouts
no sun, nothing will come
up from blackness, presenting
virgin leaves to summer sky
I fuck you with fingers and trowel
drench your face with cloud spit
ocular rain and a vowel
o,o,oh
you make me so hard
I want to thrust my fist
into your womb and rip
your belly apart!
instead, I shall humble myself
and plead-
show me the magic, the secret of life
buried down low
in your dirtied, earthen heart
that are very effective. The poem seems a little ambivalent about your feelings towards both sex and gardening. The adoption of a male persona is interesting.
is the only word I can use to describe this. I love the imagery you've used here. The lines:
'I fuck you with fingers and trowel
drench your face with cloud spit'
are going to stick in my mind today. Simply brilliant.
Mentioned in todays new poem reviews