I AM TIRED OF BEING    

I’m tired of being serious

About the wrong kinds of stuff

When the grass is fresh & rainkissed

My mind nibbles at the juicy

Leaves, the bittersweet roots &

The rainfat blossoms

I want to roll naked--

Rid of the pompous

deceiving cloak--

Roll against the blades 

Of the babygreen blanket 

Made by Mother earth

Taste the seasoned body

Of the dark soil

Let the wind caress

My sex organs

Let snow and hail stones

keep my senses

awake in dreams

Be melt by her

Veiled fire

Be happily tortured 

By 1000 mouths

To make my thinking mind 

Bleed until 

it runs out of 

words

.

.

z

z

06