All our actions & activities

result;

pry open new worlds,

close old,

often ourselves unawares

You make love,

or maybe, really, just intercourse;

a tickling glandular rampage!

- and in worst-case scenarios kids sprout

(undesired side-effects of desire,

the way god fools you,

even out of its non-existence)

whom later, for all kinds of reasons,

become people you sincerely loathe;

liturgic hardliners or civil parasites,

and you may hear the voice of a grandchild

hidden

in the background of a radio interview;

a split second of genealogy flashing by,

with a sordid recollection of the exact moment

of penetration

four decades ago,

still making me horny this day

as all the details surface; the lust that we shared,

helplessly on the surge of a wave

that lifted us up where we thought we belonged;

combatants on the ugly beauty of deliverance;

the overwhelming need to penetrate

coupled with the insatiable need to be penetrated,

resulting in a being

that later would cause nothing but harm,

and I register my own cold classified indifference

cut in stone;

a Persepolis relief

of my Day on Earth;

the planet where the blind-footed

know not where they're going,

and the plaintive of plaintiffs

go hee-hawing