-in recognition of the birthdate of e.e. cummings-

but 1st,–– a reading of Sharon Olds' "Primitive".

(she knows moo shu pork when she smells it..)

 

2nd:

i’m reminded that the last years of e.e.'s life

were the happiest.–– or so i've read, and when

informed of such things i have a tendency to believe them.

first though, it's Sharon Olds feasting on tantalizing moo shu pork

where from the table she announces sex with her man–– with her eyes!

3rd:

so, it's the birthdate of e.e. cummings, a poet,

the understanding of whom I'm as ignorant as a plank,

save for the tonality with which his word-fall flows at my eyes.

big finish:

along with the complexities of a red-shifting universe,–– far from

the flakey-skinned heels of God, drunk on the vintage he's trampled out,

down to the last hydrogen molecule's to-do list,–– I here offer to you

what i've come up with on this, the 14th day of October.