Saturday, October 12, 2019

Come All You Bold Semen

Language exploding around me
like burgeoning life forms.
The only way
to make it stop is to try
to count the pavement
cracks, with the traffic purring around me. . .
OK, I’ll try to be a ship at sea.
There was a call to arms,
and the only way
to avoid the draft was to join the Navy.
I was sent
to Egypt where Nelson’s doughty
cannon balls went whizzing by.
Everyone was speaking French,
a language that sounds like firecrackers to me—
Napoleon’s DNA
encoded in every stinging
swarm of bees that leaves the hive,
sure of their way.