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I think it was steel
but for the rust
sweat under work gloves, tan line
is dirt line and you
pound that shovel into soil
metal screeches against rock
want to be under that blade
use your boot for pressure
baby, dig, dig into me deeper
tell me this is what we wanted
tell me this is what we prepared for
all crack and grapple
don't think
~
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 34,500 poems.
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Twisting metal and salty leather; even ditch digging gets erotic in your hands!