Unsolemn

Soon it will lose its very touch,

a silently flowing stream of consciousness,

and of love and of life and of happiness,

all suffering and other self-promoting assholes,

the cult of human-reality…,

finally done for,

this is the creed of the little people,

lizards walk on sand…,

hot and steamy memories,

boys naked near the beach,

girls quietly watching, exhuming,

something dreamy creating a visible cloud,

wet and moist, slimy thrust of pubic bone,

home alone, home together…,

sun was its own worst enemy,

too hot to hug, too far to reach,

past of this cosmic melody…,

relativity unsolemn and a waking,

a waking…, a waking…,

up too slow,

then down again,

branches of a fig tree, fruit so sexy,

a tasty and succulent oral s*x,

natures hegemony over orgasms,

Creation in its vilest…,

we created what others feared,

it was a field day, okra, wheat, corn

on a strangers cob,

lubed tenderness,

and of all the unsolicited advice,

we received none…,

as young age tends to act on,

tends to use crayons on asphalt,

melting toffee on bellies,

strawberries and chocolate,

hot butter, yellow as the bus,

burning the lobsters red,

while the growing gets rough,

when the going gets tough,

through the vine,

and of cotton and blues,

and the skies left for me and you.