An X, not an Y

An X, not an Y



She's not happy coming down the stairs
with her green wide-winged hat
and her green close-fitting dress
so elegant she and kind of divine
but no, she's not glad at all today
having just had notice that all her children
had been killed abroad.

We that are left are not allowed to enjoy the day
the sand the crickets the écrevisses... nothing
nor the helpless wee birds just born into the hot ice.

Sad, we've got to be also sad
we've got to check our enjoyment of life
our greediness for what our senses sense.

And so through the night full of bourdonnements
button by button slowly until the dark cape's undone.

She's such a vision though
when with the sun she tosses away her green dress
and walks naked down the strand.

All nature revives then and my dreams with it
and into the white clean clothes the tip of my tippity prick.

How eager then all for her benediction
unfledged birds naked insects fetuses... all.

And me an earth-filtering worm squirmy of contentment
definitively annexed
definitively annexed now to her all pure purple core!