West Baby! Loud Baby!
My beard grows thick.
Scales cover my eyes, baby.
I smell you hot across the leather.
Besiege my heart with tremulous, quick kisses.
The night is clean, whistling black,
Dazzled and star struck
By your faux fur, lame dress,
Studded shades, champagne lenses,
Hand-painted turquoise shoes and
A belief in Byzantine calendars.
I am worn jeans and white polyester
Big and unbuttoned.
Early spring pink heat exposes flushed faces,
Church bells from old Roman villages
Grind us together into sweet mulch.
Night falls and we're
Cash-flush, casino rich
Ripping sheets from wood paneled
Green awning motels as we tear across
The back roads to the coast
Feasting on mango sunrays.
A quiet sky, a restless vision
And your skin is almond earth,
Almost birth, and the Siamese dream begins:
A cornstalk grows from seed.
Fuzzy harvest moon motion produces
Enormous apples when eaten become
The sun mushrooming into infinity,
The silken silver ocean,
The two of us waiting
For the final galaxy zeppelin's arrival
When the husks become pages
Tome of Atomic Love.
Blue-black slick, humid
Night after night we dream this together
Our bodies twined as earthen brass filament.
Low deep slow sleep
The road advances.
Over lilac curved mountains
I kiss your thighs across the sweating seat.
You drive faster, the air thins and the car is humming.
Soul horns hit on the downbeat.
Young maiden make haste!
Faster than all the chariots racing to the sun.
Foreigners mistake you for Decretis,
Snow flowers braided in your golden, sun-streaked hair.
Naked pupils, four all blue,
Smaller until they only trace tracks of love light
And exist to accelerate our molecules.
We speak in native tongues
Telling sorrow at the loss of time.
We cry together holding the grains,
Gaia's grains, in our shared palms.
The wind carries these seeds into
The eternal return of the desert winds
And the road advances.
Drive baby, drive. Done up in black
Cascading faster than the speed of sound.
Though our eyes speak
Deeper than all the oceans
I scream into the last flume of night
And beg for creation
As you put my hand between your legs
And signal the stars with flashlight.
Buildings of glass and light tower
Shrouded by sea fog and glitter.
We take the trolley to the dock
And costume in twenty-four carets.
The Apollo suits are glamorous
White and Teflon with a matching patchwork.
Cameras flicker and we throw
Coins, beads, fruits
Smiling clean and deliberate.
BLAST OFF, BABY!
We navigate away from the gravity of reality,
Our last retreat into a heaven.
Our eyes, lips meet as we detonate.
Orange fusion explodes the last epiphany.
A child sees shooting stars in the space age
And runs to tell the world.