Living electric dynamos,
that’s what we animals are—
wires tripping at a touch.
that’s what we animals are—
wires tripping at a touch.
Watching myself wait—an
innocent
whose tender nerves were never scorched
by the amperage overload of love?
whose tender nerves were never scorched
by the amperage overload of love?
No! I shorted out on love fifty
years ago—
I beeped and flashed
like a stuck garage-door opener.
And here I am again, voltage
primedI beeped and flashed
like a stuck garage-door opener.
to jump, as if Love had never shot
their phlogiston arrow in my heart.
their phlogiston arrow in my heart.
