November is here and my mood has shifted with the warmer weather. I had two good poetry gigs: the “madness and despair” one had the hoped-for cathartic effect and the “sex and debauchery” one was steamy and sensual.
Anyhow, this poem has now had a bit of a workout and I think it’s ready for public viewing… No guesses for where I’m hoping to go next year…
Toledo
i want toledo to be
my mississippi river
i will come back to her
over and over
call her beloved
whisper her name in the night
wrap myself in her darknesses
caress her there
in the evenings under the moon
wade in her dampnesses
suckle under her fruiting branches
squander my richest verses
on her shy banks
flatter her with my silvered quills
woo her, bed her, delve
knuckle-deep into aching sighing
keep her, leave her, sweep her
up into water-wild romances
i will wander down her nooks
and explore her hidden spots
i want toledo to be
my coming and my going
my journey and my destination
i will not sequester myself
in her terraces, alone and shivering
but will slam shots of tequila
in cosy bars while jazz trumpets
wail her name across bridges.
© RB 2002