keep some stuff for yourself

i have never told anybody

about the time i i i

slept with three guys at once

cause it never happened

but why o why

did i say anything about

the ping-pong table, the slits

that were his eyes, the river that now runs

backwards, and about the o! o! o!

meadow?

how it was

crossed and recrossed

and crossed

out the grass turning to sea

to wallow

how i crossed my heart and hoped

to finally and decisively

live but died o,

so young and so hard, killed

everything

was resurrected

into somebody's mother, somebody's (x?) wife

did i mention my first kiss was extracted

by someone who never should have been that

lucky? and how much later i threw

my virginity and, later still, my vanity

away?

probably

how now i'm wearing them again, like a strapless

backless dress and a powerpuffs backpack?

like a pinkblueyellow hand knit woolen cap?

i have not told anyone, but,

like marty running, i too have shat my pants

remember that navy blue night when your friend's wife told

your husband in the dark

among the dripping roses

that you were trying to steal

hers?

and you didn't know it then

but yours was already lost

and gone?

actually, i probably have already said

a word or two about that

to one or two

and do you recall when X called you unamunam-

unambitious?

you told many many many tales about that

except that maybe you are, were

when will you learn to keep it

quiet

for god's sake

don't tell anyone

you sent your son flying

into a jamb, it was a door he was up against,

it was this hard as a board this life

his my eye

and the blood in it, for you

excuse me,

i have laid aside or betrayed

every one and thing you have ever . . .

owed

owned

sown

thrown

wanted

got

sometimes do you have to step outside your life

or, at least, outside your house, when it was (nay, is) late late

late at night to see how bright

and warm where you live is, was

how right?

and even then you didn't and don't believe it

because you are and are not right

is was and is wasn't

and it ain't

wrong or right

i have yet to say much of anything on the topic

of being the betrayed instead of the betrayer

of what was left

on my husband's cell

like in the bedroom like unfaithful

i, (you too?), have disposed of the body

singing: honesty

is a luxury

will you spare me

the gory details:

okay, so you yourself have fucked with your eyes your hand

your cunt

closed over somebody else's cock

and turns out they were really fucking "you"

sometimes

bite out your his our her lovely tongue(s)

mind the tip of your nose, where your fingers went, how you

got down

on your knees, look out

for your pink your black

your steel colored and cloud covered . . .

go ahead, sell that stupid old soul, but, please, mind your step,

your mind, please

please,

pletase!

keep some of it

some of this (shhhhhhhhh . . .)

some of . . . iiiiiitttttt

for yourself