Indiscriminate Kisses

Foreplay of obscene graffiti carved

into trees—foot-long boners

gouge the bark. Beaks and snouts

on a restroom mirror. Slick lips.

Succulent lips. I go out among them

sometimes. So sweet how they pucker up

out of pity. A practiced pathos

in a saloon of woodsmen whose axes

wait in trucks out back. Lips full of yawn

or yes. Lips thick with God-spit

and God-suck. Chapped lips, bloody lips.

Pierced or tattooed, they pout

into view—here to give, willy-nilly,

what's been too long held in the body.

Something passes across tongues. It sayeth not

a name; it taketh everyone's turn. Mute lips

of a swift unbuttoner. Mouths fording

frothy streams, vaporous bogs.

I stumble forth in their midst. Maybe

I am out of bread or in a bad place

with a book. The streets have an attendant

caress. Moon lapping rumor. Fat lip

approaches hare lip. There go pasty

lips. All are readied as if for a race

or to be plucked like rare moths

by bright wings from the air. Betty's lips

and Bobby's and Bucky's just before the collision

and the siren's red wail. Laddy, keep

a light on. I may have to come ashore

some distance from where I set in.