I am ready at last for the unrelenting savagery or call to your actions, seductions, or even rampant affection, genuine for the time at present.
I require not a guarantee, only unequivocal intensity by and for soft strong fingers and supple form
Slay me, command me, instruct me, mark me as yours when your commands drift to my ears, will pretend i allow you to dominate me but in reality, i possess no choice.
I am supple in flesh and mind – long surrendered to your charms.
Your letters sent in secret, your annotations, my replies, bundled in brown manila, i assume secreted to a trusted friend in a Balkan enclave with suspect postal service.
The cancellations – round and particular, glue melts to tempt prying eyes. I do not mind if someone knows our deepest fondest codes. While they can set the letters to words to prose, they cannot comprehend the sweet honey you mix with Turkish coffee cooled only by the same ice cube i run along your sustaining bosom, – providing a life i could never know before.
My dear counsellor – who helped me so very much when “the wheels fell off” with sickness, death, career disruption, and finding new self with advice about letting go and floating – is travelling, writing, meditating, learning, giving… all over.
4AM Shanghai
Me, insomniatic as usual
Watching light rise
Through pollution skies
To illuminate building designed
By a committee of Dr. Seuss, Salvador Dali and MC Escher
The ship pulls out through endless gauntlet
of all the ships in the world
Each their own world
Tiny houses on giant barges, flags, cigarette and a wave
2
Yangtze River wide
As a sound
Cozy as an African watering hole
Herds of barges graze
Like wildebeests lady to fall into stampede
When hyena party boats of wedding revellers disappear into dark,
Moored behind elephant cruisers
The bulls wait beyond the marsupial floating dry docks
Holding wounded deer craft
Under gaze of manicured obedient flocks
Of bobbing cranes
Feeding vibes into yawning hippos accustomed to melons
Catamaran racers lean into wind, puny sailors lean to balance for the watches and cameras
As peacocks might
Beneath windmills grindingly faraway wheat
3
The wagon trail of floaters
Parade through river intersections
Obeying crackled jargon appointing times-subject to change
From typhoons, tainted waters, tides and an abundance of caution
And negotiation
Then the dispatch arrives
And like preschoolers, holding a string
The horizon redefines with tankers
Containers, cruisers, scoopers, prospectors, fighters, seekers, and free radicals
Bearing industrial names
Referred by diligent tugs
Pilots breakwater boundaries
And the wake and buoys ahead
Soon they will diverge to transient paths
Using similar charts
And common codes
