FRIDAY NIGHT IN FALL Lights draw them in, off the tractors, out of bars and living rooms, to this field of tradition and honor.
Gangly adolescent warriors explode through a paper banner, and proto-women, blonde, thin and flushed, face grizzled fathers, bundled mothers, and little kids not yet playing under the bleachers. With cheers, old and practiced, imbued into the collective memory of generations, they chant and gyrate.
So the band fidgets, waiting their turn to high-step for a grandstand emptying, headed for candy, or coffee, served too hot in small cups by volunteers.
Beginning with a whistle, and ending with a gun, this savage dance of grace enthralls, and they forget themselves for a time.
AUTUM'S ROBES
Silent giants clothed, momentary splendor
of gold and rust, red and orange. In growing cold
these flaming garments slip from gnarled
shoulders, now tangled and mounded at their feet.
Awaiting winters' nakedness, for new and
tender shawls, a season in the knitting.
SKIN DEEP
Peel away the skin and see
an exquisitely crafted bio-mechanical machine.
Remove muscle and sinew, merely meat for the grinder.
Remaining, glistening, pulsing purple viscera,
keeps the machine alive. Stripped to the bone,
white and shiny, good for fuel, the marrow,
food for scavengers. What remains,
cannot be touched, but may be felt;
cannot be heard, but may be listened to;
cannot be held but may be missed. It has no value,
yet is priceless.
Oh! Lookit! She's pretty!
Damn......
EXILE
Pushing away those who would have me.
Fear and self-loathing, afraid of hurting,
yet again. Self imposed exile, but
yearning for a connection. Eventually
hunger will outweigh the danger.
Superficiality or personal taste, I don't know.
Attracted to the pretty package, shiny paper,
bows and ribbons, or so I'm told.
Unable to help myself, it's what I like,
but so often disappointed by the contents.
Tired of waiting, wanting. Patience being
ground in with the muddy boot of time,
a lesson grudgingly learned.
FETISHISTS
Turned on by the thought of spanking a
rosy-bottomed 19-year-old in a plaid skirt, or perhaps
BEING the skirted vixen?
Influential men, bound, paddled, and humiliated,
forced to suck the patent leather boots
of their dominatrix, and paying for the privilege.
A Member of Parliament caught on video,
pallid and diapered, suckling an enormous bottle,
while shitting himself silly.
There was a guy into feet, breaking into homes
to steal the shoes, to do who knows what? I suppose he
inhaled the toxic smell while jerking off, but maybe not?
Excrement lovers, scat and piss, fecal focus
and urinary utopia, makes me want to puke,
but there are folks who dig this crazy shit.
What about bestiality? Goat fuckers and horse suckers.
Isn't it unfair to the animals? I suppose if they get off they like it....
But never-you-mind the moral implications.... Because it's all in fun.
Created In Who's Image?
I'D FORGOTTEN
Do you think she remembers even
a little, or cares,
that she was my first?
Muggy, muggy September, sheets damp
before we lay, and made them
wet with sweat and all the rest that
Comes with the territory.
Skin on skin, I remember
how tight she gripped,
at first a fist, and I an eel
seeking safety, burrowing
in her reef, until..... omigod,
did I do that right?
What was her name anyway?
FREEBIE
"FREE TRAVEL MUGS!" exclaims the
red-shirted squad pawning plastic.
"FREE TRAVEL MUGS!" Some sort of promo
for who-cares-what, as though a quarters
worth of poly will influence a purchasing
decision. The look in her eye shows she
can't believe she's stooped this far.
"FREE TRAVEL MUGS!"
Email: dpo@davidoffutt.com
