Issue 14
Allowing the Body to Finally Speak

This request will be in the voice
        of a propaganda film asking
the country for nylons and chocolate
        bars, a wish that will trail off
like music from a car window,
        like foreplay, like a series

of horseshoes and hand grenades.
        I am partial to the idea
of making love as a means
        of stalling death, of allowing
the body to finally speak

on the spirit’s behalf: I want
        to be touched by a stranger
in the back seat of a car
        so that there is a darkness
to fear again. Boo: that’s my new term
        of endearment. It’s Cajun.

(first published in 32 Poems)