by Jennifer Moxley
A creamy tear descended here when Cupid squeezed the teat
of Venus. Dripping down the Milky Way it puddled beneath
old oak, new pine. Love’s selfish thirst did pluck a cosmic note,
set every entombed entangled bit of me in roots both new
and old to singing. I was become in earth and by harmony
a million bits of tongue and ear, sound funnels upwhorled
in song conducting cones. Fresh music from old flesh
corrected my (most melancholy) record of this last go round
the planet. Now I was first things: elementals, vegetable
and mineral in form, dust to kick it on the breeze,
loam to feed old oak, new pine, Eros-greedy energy
on hunt for nourishment, cream to suck, breast to squeeze.
Last updated June 18, 2019