He-Wolf

He-Wolf

he wolf, sneaky one
with that wide, sandpaper
tongue, wet in places.

you spread your juices on
the moon, slow, like
butter melting,

and she carried you
connected by joint
and crater
in an archway
to ascending sky,

she sucked you
in installments, slowly
savoring the life in you

fuller with each turn
she churned you
in her bowl of caramel skin,

and when you ailing
mewed your last, lonesome
utterance, she smiled
and returned you to
soft earth so you
could
lick away the lint,
and take a rest.

he wolf, sneaky one
with that wide, sandpaper
tongue, wet in places,
you spread your juices
on the moon
so slow like
butter melting,
and she carried you.



one of my first poems that stuck with me, written circa 1992-93. arranged to a Bengali folk song in 2003.