Wednesday, November 2, 2011

On The First Man Who had Insecurities About the Size of his Penis

I need…something…something to cover,
an animal, or a log, a leaf! Yes,
a leaf, but what kind?
Banana or fig perhaps? Or palm, from a palm tree I mean,
But there are holes, slits, why

am I so worried
about slits
on the leaves?
And where is Eve?
She must not come
Not here,
Not now,
She cannot see
(me)
like
This.

But why?
What,
have I got to hide?
I feel like hiding everything,
In cabinets and safes with locks,
Deadbolts. Chains, alarm
systems, only
the best will do.

The sky splits open, the earth
feels like a tent with the roof ripped off,
A volcano, the apocalypse, a hurricane
breezy and vast,
small. I feel small.

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