poems
by Chris Damitio
THE DEVIL’S GIFT
LOU-SO GAVE UP EVERYTHING.
WALKED AWAY THOUGHT THE KINGDOM
OF HEAVEN WAS OFFERED
TO HIM.
FOR ALL THAT IS GOOD, ALONE FROM EVIL
HE COULD NOT ACCEPT- HE SAW THE BEAUTY OF
LOVE- IF YOU WILL.
LOVE BY ITSELF, BEAUTY ISOLATED, IS
LONELY, ASK ANY MARRIED COUPLE.
PAIRED WITH AN OPPOSITE-PEAKS
CAN BE SCALED, FREE OF WILL
CARRIED LIKE A CURRENT
BETWEEN OPPOSING POLES—-OF MAGNETISM.
PLEASURE IS BEST EXPERIENCED AFTER PAIN.
IN TURNING DOWN HEAVEN CHOICE WAS CREATED.
CHOICE. FREE WILL, IF YOU WILL.
SUFFERING SCORCHING KNOWLEDGE, LIKE HELLFIRE
RAISING THE APPRECIATION OF —-
PASTORAL ANGELS PLAYING LUTES.
ALLOWING ONE- OR ALL- TO EXPLORE THE DEPTHS –
FOR THE KNOWLEDGE OF HELL ALLOWS YOU TO RISE MUCH HIGHER–
OR FALL MUCH FURTHER.
RAIN
DRIZZLE DAYS DEPENDENT
NOT ON SUN
GREY AND NEUTRAL ALL AROUND
ALASKA
ALASKA IS LIKE SOME SORT
OF APHRODISIAC. MAKING ME
ETERNALLY LUSTY- LUSTIER EVEN THAN
ME– IN OTHER PLACES.
HER TOWERING MOUNTAINS PAINT
PICTURES OF LARGE SUPPLE BREASTS
AND I’M REMINDED OF PUBIC HAIR BY
HER FORESTS. CONSTANTLY WET
AND MOVING IN A STATE OF AROUSAL—
BUT SOMEHOW IT DOESN’T SOUND RIGHT
TO SAY – I WANNA FUCK ALASKA-
OR- FUCK ME ALASKA
BUT THE SMELL SO RICH AND
MUSKY. LIKE DIVINITY.
LAND AND SEX.
SEA AND SEX.
SKY AND SEX.
SEX.
ALASKA.
SUMMER ENDING QUICKLY
SUMMER. WHY BASEBALL?
BECAUSE MEN PLAY LIKE CHILDREN
IN AN OVERGROWN LOT?
BECAUSE NOBODY LIKES HAVING
TO PLAY IN THE RAIN.
SUMER. WHAT IS IT?
IS IT THE BERRIES?IS IT THE
SALMON? IN THE STREAMS,
WORKING TOWARDS PROCREATION
NO MATTER THE STRAIN.
SUMMER? WHY EAR CLOTHES?
