Dirty Books

 

I write dirty books about

how mother Isis lovingly takes

the throbbing member of Osiris

deep inside her until their juices mingle,

spilling over into the crack

of the world, making for easy entry

of Horus coming into his power.

Nuit, mother of them all hangs

above, with breasts dripping

milk to form the stars of blue,

red, and yellow fire to suckle

all in the white incestuous fire of life.

So I pick people who don’t yearn

for doves or swans but for each other,

and give them names like Frank and Jane.

In their pleasure of knowing

each other, they become gods

as sure as those of dust from long ago.

 

first published in Wind Row, Spring, 1984.  Also appears in Love is Just Lust Misspelled, 1994.

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About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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