Wednesday, March 15, 2006

not a sex poem:

i am shorter with no shoes on
my toes rubbing cotton socks
into the synthetic fibers
of a worn-down carpet;
purple into red.

the heat here is on the "fritz"
or a distant island in the pacific
simply taking holiday
in this, the unforgiving tale
of a sturdy winter.

i need to finish this book
so i can write this letter
but i leave in 15 minutes;
go home, go to bed, go to sleep.

between the layers of slumber
are tangled masses and dreams
of his spirit animal and mine
mingling in a domestic forest
at the hum of a filtered pond

and we, of all the creatures,
ill-suited to one another,
are happy here without the heat.

we have thick socks to keep our feet
warm through the last month of winter.

4 comments:

William F. DeVault said...

Very organic, very resonant. You definitely have the voice, and I am pleased to see it. I'll have to get you on my podcast sometime.

katy said...

why thank you, batman! and i'd be delighted to pod a cast or cast a pod... how do i listen in, anyway? i really ought to join in on the pod casting revolution.

arch.memory said...

Ooh! Katy podcasting! That would be so cool!
And here's the link to the podcats:
http://www.cityoflegends.com/radio.html
I just subscribed and I'm downloading... Can't wait!

drook said...

mmmm hum. "fritz". happy here without heat. delicious in that non-sexual way, besides lint.

I agree with the podcast idea, as I find the sound of your voice pleasant, warm, and friendly (and I can't aurally imagine what you'd be like if angry.)