Uncontrollable Soup

Distress the dirting bubble above the canopy of mind,
Ticking away the shocks and smocks of nickel-plated time
Read aloud in the undergarments of oh-so-many with whom you have been
Intimate,
Except me,
Always the boys down the street
Without cloud,
Without understanding,
Standing, burning bright in the noonday sun,
Unkempt except for their glowing hair and teeth.
This history is written in the yards of cloth suspended from my inner face,
Knitted and embroidered with the ferocious paroxysms of pleasure
Coursing through your veins and into my waiting mouth.
Subdue it,
Wring it from your mount,
Flowers,
Wet waiting inside the very sea
Itself
Over the endless river that flows from
Before I cared to know you,
Before I cared to see what I would always continue to do to myself
When you weren’t there to
Bright me into speakness.
Break away this flower of my mind into the
Uncontrollable soup of everyday’s food,
And I am here to forget all that in the company of my
Love.
Before I can say it again,
Speak me into all the worlds and
Fly, fly,
Smoothe to me to the vastness of infinite water.