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uutpoetry:

A Dickhead is a Swan’s-down

A dickhead is a swan’s-down:
self-registering and uninterpretable

like horrendous painkillers
saying no to north
in a carburetor of meaning.

Pitched without rain
we must read everything
and not fear the raging
and calendars
of form.

There,
in the walnut pocket
incorrectly reassessing March
or, simply
the lanes of death
we ate together
as lesbians

on the pillows of madness
weaving energy with the chest
hands open and out
four rocks interweaving
nepotism with its black
tangible patterns.

In soft folds,
the swan.
In soft pain,
the rolling arcs
of the dickhead

detained
in an underground sushi parlor—
just not a habitat
for the breathless i love you.

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art by raintree 1969