juice

April 26, 2009 12:00AM

warmth sploshes up as percussion and
all-a-tingle–
ripe–
we roll out from our lopped cages and
unfold
all juicy, bitten, liquid and
a-splurging
lurid tumbling circus,
frisbees, cleavage,
somersaults, open toes, looped skirts, the
shirtless, the
strings, the
muscled wellspring of bicycles
interleaving and the
curves bathing, skating, loping and
splashing, laughing and
langourous all tucked-up, knit-tight
along the banks of the Charles.

spring, this juice, this un-rolled spindle, un-folded and
a-singular
pooled monkey-buttered-joy under this sun, this huge
group cartweel,
balloons and yellow
upswells. and yes
sex, sex, sex.
everywhere the blooming of sex, the
premonitions of dropped clothing,
the peacock-wagging-waddling
parade of flashing dancing glances,
awkward gestures,
islands of cuddled love,
wayward eyes, posturing and
shy and
breathing simmering
sex.

so dipped, so thrown down–
we grease this downward slither, we
slake and shudder under these fountains,
under these blowing arcing limbs,
(green pearlescent dreams) and
wherever,
whenever
milk-milk-milk this fruit
until it’s
dry.