Astrologically Speechless
It was a fingernail moon
that scratched the sky last night:
God clutching at black satin sheets
in self-induced orgasmic glory.
Raindrops pounded the window
as nightfall gyrated in ecstasy
and slid into the west.
The cavernous dark that remained
was a mouth devoid of answers
or reason, wordlessly empty,
and the stars just platitudes
meaningless and pretty
for the desperate.
Poetry
Oh Erin. I love this. I love that you dared bring sensuality and sexuality to God and I love the rhythmic throbbing of it. I love the self-indulgence and then emptiness of it. Mmmm. This is good.
ReplyDeletewant the truth Erin? You ever get a word or a line or an idea that just swims around in your head insisting that you use it in a poem? Well - this piece started that way... the idea/word that spawned it? "dry hump"
ReplyDeleteGo figure :)
Glad you like this piece though. I like the concept, but I need to refine it. This is totally a first draft.
Nice poem!
ReplyDelete