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.