lust at first sight

. . . from adam

i feel as though i must have seen your face within my dreams at least

a thousand times before . . . peek-a-boo,

déjà-vu, i see you again. again.

again . . . (et cetera).

but i don't believe in miracles; angels, saints or oracles;

the devil. fate---the tools that make the soul fool itself into feeling

before it's time. we were never

together in another life, you know.

there is no providence divine, no ties that bind no heralds that sing,

nor inspired words from the heavens or bells ring-
ing out the mysteries of unrecognized familiarity . . .

there's nothing but the pumping of blood through the viens of the dead-trite,

purposefully complicit,
morally up-tight, sexually depraved, upright bass rhythm

of the city.

the insecure,

cold, hard reality and regularity

of huge cock in strange hands

straining not to cum.

i don't know you from adam . . .

but that doesn't mean that i don't wanna

tie you down with fantasmigoric but predictable, dick-swinging

come-on lines---

like these.

it takes some ingenuity to appeal to both your brain and your sex

-y smile works wonders on me . . .

tickles me pink and to the point of creaming,

makes me think of far away places, faces distended in absolute ecstacy.

come home with me . . .

before this feeling ends.

written 6.24.99