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