(a redux)

there was a barcode

stuck to the end of his cock

it wasnt a Fresh-By  a Birth or Expiration date

it was # 0667528744757

                       $5.00

$5.00

shameful

if someone had the keen imagination to affix a tacky sticker to the head of his cock 
Thats it  Five bucks

Hell  hed kick down five bucks just to learn how the tagger managed the sleight-of-hand

 

he was feeling like a bit of a scientific experiment like he might have been lifted up during the night in his sleep
or in an induced sleep and explored by Aliens 

or impressive Churchgoers

  

there was no way to tell 



                                             he was a heavy sleeper and was intoxicated with dreams
filled with enormous red yellow and black fires burning in every direction he looked fires undiminished burning in full throat and fury their fuels impossibly not rendered  not the sailboats at sea or tied to a quay  not the automobiles sprawled on crying and sputtering tarmac stuck fast by black-taffy tires afire  not the shimmering walls of trees or singular plumes throwing off swarms of fireflies ash and sodden pitchblack smoke  not the wood buildings shaking like epileptics tipping their tinroofs like bright shining fedoras or mad locomotives and traincars snaking on ochre rails  and the fires themselves their magnificent whirling sheen painting and marbling the faces and bodies of onlookers as if their skins were made of paraffin and they marveling as intently as he

he woke and pulled on his dirty buttonfly jeans to work the fruit trees in the yard  turned the copious compost  watered and tendered the young plants to assure their best starts to flourish

he cleaned and refilled the halfdozen hummingbird feeders

then stomping his work boots to shed soil slapping the dirt from his knees and thighs and seat he and she jumped into the truck and drove over to the Mercantile for groceries  the butchers for fresh meat

they stopped for a coffee and talked over the stained white ironstone mugs

somewhere in there or prior he was tagged

he wasnt one to pay attention to discomfort or pain  both lubricated his sense or presence

being  in a word  alive

small ticks between the GONGs of waking and falling asleep

spice for his food  a clean glass jar for his drink

tagged

somewhere in there

he hadnt a clue 

she hadnt a clue

but she laughed something fierce and said she was sorry when she recognized the consternation in his face

then laughed again and again something fierce

she even laughed when they went to bed as he nuzzled the back of her neck wondering over her shoulder across her dimpled cheek if he remembered to wear protection

--   Yah love  Five bucks worth

1557,  Day-Between-Two-Ts,  18  6. 14

1423,  Sunday,  22  6. 14