fucked her four ways to friday
left my bandana on her bedstand
my paperback on her bureau
i fucked her with a love poem
i fucked her with words
i fucked her with a smile
i fucked her with a closed mouth kiss
fucked her every which way but hold on tight
the night is starting to get dark
the night, the night
the long & dangerous night
i held her in my arms
with nothing on tv but the news
nothing to do tomorrow but relish in the strung-out afterglow
with pot & coffee & reruns & Easter candy
monday i made her
tuesday I teased her
wednesday i humped her
& thursday we played doctor
i fucked her four ways to friday
& then spent the weekend waiting on an alibi
just hoping i got inside her
& when no new poem came to me by saturday
i went to church on sunday
looking for forgiveness in advance
before one more week of this shit
changed the way i fuck myself
changed the way i wrote poetry & ritualized my pre-work mornings
i fucked her with a thermometer
i fucked her with the glittery silver blue baton she was twirling in her backyard
i fucked her with the wooden spoon she had hanging in her kitchen
she used for rainy afternoon soups
i fucked her with a promise she held me to with relentless tickling
i decided to kill time
browsing through the used bookstore
looking for other ways to fuck her
instead of actually fucking her
i let my car run out of gas
my dishes pile up in the sink
my dirty laundry on the floor
my heating bill unpaid
just so i could fuck her with only my intellect
& she could feel privileged
like she got fucked by thoughts & not just
nouns & verbs & adverbs
& a few not so housebroken loosely chosen
adjectives like
wild & excruciating & tantalizing & tumultuous
& torrential
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