What faces me is loveliness.
But isn’t “loveliness” a pretty abstract word?
Is it more abstract than “horniness,”
But isn’t “loveliness” a pretty abstract word?
Is it more abstract than “horniness,”
for example? Is it only laziness
that prevents me from being as precise as a bird
in the aim of my beak? Birds too experience horniness—
that prevents me from being as precise as a bird
in the aim of my beak? Birds too experience horniness—
there’s plenty of randiness
in a bird’s attempts to make their way in the world,
but a sublimated horniness
in a bird’s attempts to make their way in the world,
but a sublimated horniness
takes over my body and I reek with horsiness—
I mean, when I’m riding in the morning fields
amid the fragrance
I mean, when I’m riding in the morning fields
amid the fragrance
of the Venus trees—the
puffiness
of the place on our foot that has a bandaid
on it, as I trade my horniness
for the chance to walk in the path of Jesus,of the place on our foot that has a bandaid
on it, as I trade my horniness
blessed and true because absurd—
facing my loneliness.
Nothing could be more abstract than my horniness.
