Madhuri

I kneel behind him
Pick up my hair, half per hand
And wrap it around
His worked-out, pork-fed middle
And there’s hair left over still to bend

We pull the light in from the music
Even in Kansas
I wander with my wrinkled-fairy body
Up and down his muted tones of muscle
Even in Kansas
Where the startled room says
What are you doing?
Go argue, or watch TV!
But we’re just walls
Particles of old congealments
We can’t do anything
With all this light and hair –

We lie in the flannel bed
As bodies of sound
Move up the rainbow of our centers
Even in Kansas
Upon the khaki plain
Expanding bell-ripples
Rest like owls in knot-holes
Then climb again
The cushioned steps
Gathering the light in
Above the dark half-snowy canvas
Ironed out to vastly far away

Lurching SUVs, Nov. ’07