from Recovered Poems: SHAKE

4.
SHAKE
and the sky
was like a tabloid
when I wiped
the smudge
and left a thumbprint
on the spider
in her eye
snow was blowing
through the branches
did she always
dress like that
we couldn’t stop
I rolled her tights down
to her knees
and pressed my lips
against her belly
no one has to know
if that’s not good enough
thoughts and algorithms
piles of dishes
scrambled eggs and oatmeal
floating in the sink
matter doesn’t stop
shaking
no one has to know
if that’s not good enough
cold pedestrians,
hackles, snarls of lipstick,
aftershave and stockings
mocking in a lockstep stagger
trying to get back
back to you
trying to get back
to life on earth
no fool fine enough
to tinker
with the light
nor lithe nor subtle
to blow it away
with a kiss