Saturday, March 14, 2015


               - Claire Bateman

Blessed are the flabby people at Walgreen's
buying Trojan transparent ribbed golden condoms.

Unlike the couple on the package,
they have never had
a beach encounter at sunset.

They are landlocked.
They have shoveled their weight in worries
and are well acquainted with mulch.

They have problems with flatulence
because they fry with lard.

Yet darkness
rocks their unfashionable limbs
into phosphorescence.

In that tide they overcome gravity.
Holy, they vocalize with the whales.


Ms. Moon said...

Oh my god. I love that.
I love you too.

Elizabeth said...

Oh, my. Me, too (Ms. Moon's comment).