Do you think I would dress like this if I cared?
Suffer me into the sun,
Bite dog days into my clothes,
Wreck Tijuana bibles, coagulate them as shame,
Punch them into knuckles,
Bench press each against my mattress.
Ruffle me all over with your oleaginous tributaries
Do my pantyhose look like they are up for lectures?
For your slangs meandering up vine pipes;
Parasite behind bushes, blooming endogenous?
Noctivagant, amputated passenger pigeon,
Noose on 365.
Deep Throat me.
Back in the kitchen.
Look into my trousers.
What do you see?
Tire shedding rubber, wrestling debris
Punctuating my mammaries
Serenades for my blouse.
Double time, now
Look down. Look down. Look down. Look down.
Mahmood Sadaat Ruhul is a poet.
