- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Holding On
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holds me like a thorny rose
standing on her tip tip toes
looks me right in the eye
asks to teach her how to fly,
holds me like a rusty spike
says that we should take a hike
up the ridge, that old fire tower
couldn’t take more than an hour,
holds me like an old stone tool
found in some deserted pool
civilization long dispersed
take the best, leave the worst,
holds me, then she lets me go
each rolling with the flow
down the river, down the drain
standing naked in the rain …
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