Lifetained Hands

Jar splash cracked along the sash
careened to kitchen caper catastrophe,
all amiss, amidst the mess a muss,
adrift in sauce glass goo,
and you, neither yay nor either woo,
just this will do, pooling red
ruin ’round you, your slidey hands
held heart caught hauling
preprogrammed scolding
to the found sound,
then sorry little ones
go dripping down
the fridgeline molding
waiting a wail, wanting to,
to no avail, watch the glass,
me darling lass, wave the catch,
no be sad, no, forever not,
just sing you please Norina,
Suprema Squeeza –
tat sat t’boot in shifty tremble,
embrace upside your silky face,
Adoramata Ma, to dance forever
broken-knee, so such that we,
salt dolls at sea,
shall liken sound some certain day
on dream-soft seasheen shores,
shellacked upon the lazy doft,
be tossed by waves surroundth you,
refounded you barely, but enough,
hence aloft to graze the liquilight
all anglerfish sup up to with those
honest selfsame lifetained hands,
these mute hand shapes like nefty elf,
the selfsame ones sauce-dreaming
down the dire wire, way wounded
beyond all wishing it be other,
on my knees, your knees, snock head
to your heirloom tomato-soaked slippies,
sweats like wine, wisked to the weary washer –
ah love, Shiva flume, floating handle grace,
the sook of thy face, shooting stars-eyes,
setting aside the tiramisu,
so gently I want you,
I want you . . .

05/17/04