from Recovered Poems: SHAKE

4.

SHAKE

and the sky

was like a tabloid

when I wiped

the smudge

and left a thumbprint

on the spider

in her eye

snow was blowing

through the branches

did she always

dress like that

we couldn’t stop

I rolled her tights down

to her knees

and pressed my lips

against her belly

no one has to know

if that’s not good enough

thoughts and algorithms

piles of dishes

scrambled eggs and oatmeal

floating in the sink

matter doesn’t stop

shaking

no one has to know

if that’s not good enough

cold pedestrians,

hackles, snarls of lipstick,

aftershave and stockings

mocking in a lockstep stagger

trying to get back

back to you

trying to get back

to life on earth

no fool fine enough

to tinker

with the light

nor lithe nor subtle

to blow it away

with a kiss