I can’t walk past a gumball machine
without thinking of you,
you suck my balls blue.
I gaze at rubber snakes
in the L.A. Zoo Gift Shop
and think of that wonderful numbness when we stop.
Every time we lie in bed,
we’re a sculpture unexhibited,
dwelling in our private pleasure palace of being
Sleeping animals inside us wait
for the night or toddler sleep…
then we dive into our Marianas Trench
Before I shower I scratch myself,
cup my hand to my nose
for a mixture of reality dos.
I daydream of licking oysters from the shell,
of inhaling life in valleys and on hills:
a hint of leftover salsa, tequila, and lime.
Hell, I’m just glad to be your Energizer bunny,
because you only open your battery compartment
for my cylindrical energy.
Don Kingfisher Campbell, MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University Los
Angeles, publisher of the San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly, organizer of
the San Gabriel Valley Poetry Festival, and host of the Saturday Afternoon
Poetry reading series in Pasadena, California. For publication credits,
please go to: http://dkc1031.blogspot.com