Spring! on days when you can smell the sea and summer coming thoughts turn to miscegenation the tense and press of flesh        to fold is all the air’s imagining how upright every breast is held forced to attention, bound and shy the short skirt likewise        sly tribute to the meek helplessness of men what is it with the shiny lips? and what should they remind me of? everywhere shaved but the top of the head and the temple’s environs who can tell? salt whiff forget the diesel under remember, land’s an interruption Priapus pipes and preens to pry more Falernian I say or with Herrick let me welcome back sack o corpulent with lust for your arousal and disgust sit on my knee and let me be Santa a Lady of Sorrows looks after us later KK next>

this is the speech of my hands poetry by Christopher (Kit) Kelen and Steven Schroeder | images by Kit Kelen