Relating to Tao
I need this whole
city to melt with
me, to feel this
orgasm. My politics are too
numb for words
& birds.
Roofs howl.
Billboards snort at us.
The flag twirls into itself.
Telephone wires
stare us down.
The flag dances, still!
Cars keep running right through
the holy ground between us
& what for? This is
where god almost died.
People. A conscious dilemma.
Birthed suckle-sounding winks
of fermenting amber glazed
like plastic over flat cement.
Any genuine woman might
require a heroism that feels
bravely too interior—a throbbing
breath of tenderness which keeps
unwound enough to moan.