thinking thoughts

i wish to

substitute sex

with writing

for the pen is

rudimentary

and has been known

to fail

to create characters

in its splatters and

the rush of a climax

that satisfies only one usually

and sometimes

even then

did you like it

because i only do

if you did the do

too

but there’s too much

to read in between the lines

of a palm

that you’re meant to lick

even when it’s bereft

of coconuts and their juices –

these meat trees

don’t offer much

more than constipation

compared to fibre

and always,

there’s hardening in all

the wrong parts

*

i was young

and happy once

when i younger and happier

but now i have

those thinking thoughts

that swim and splash

and sink atop another

growing as i do

and in the other ways

i don’t

for the sea is large

and i’ve only piled in a small line

leaving me further from me

and from the youth

that falls and forgets

how young it was once