An Abstract Painting of a Turd.
A Poem about Poo
What phenomena touches my cloth
how little we begin and how much it enriches the pants?
Of the universe?
The wide smooth log filters.
Steal me and let my substance appreciate
I saw how your trail is glistening
by the trusting essence
and meetings of peas, carrots and broccoli
like the wounded blood of cathedrals.
What slender brown tips –
candles for the laxative and the crooked pipe
a smudge and a square of paper,
lacing the air.
Blossomed and then sitting in the basin
your body is a shoreline filled with texture
the pasture relinquishing from my fingernails
against the vicinity like grit?
I saw how paths are cleared
by the humble wiping hand
like billows of dark smoke engulfing inside smooth hairs
the steady dignity of your pungent vapour!
You pass through my ring like a piece of finely spun silk.