We Know These
We know these symptoms
wella rabid dog
bites a man, and then the man develops
irrational fears of water, seeing the frothy chops
of mad dogs in it hallucinogenic as a drug.
And soon, he will refuse water, cup,
and well, and rage at it, until deep thirst
That time, with lips pursed,
when you gave me those love bites, all up
and down my thigh I think that they were poison!
Your teeth sank deep, my heart absorbing it:
we know these symptoms well, and the reason.
So now in every ocean, lake, pond and pit,
in every stream and ditch, I see your face,
and staring, always, up from the emptied wine glass.
If you've any comments on
this poem, Leonard
Kress would be
pleased to hear from you.