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Get Up Good

I want to get up good,
And go to work, easy open sky work,
Like the open lips of love-letters:
Good easy work,
Like being back in preschool and going on
Field trips to the
Naked galleries in the over spilling
Art museum,
Inebriate, leggy women- their first explosions
Of chartreuse rhapsody,
The easy, every day spilling spume,
The alarm systems and identical sisters colonnading
The rosy earth, and I don’t want to every have
To get up again with a tooth ache,
With a bend; I don’t want to ever have to skip school
Again,
With these two legs, or a bicycle to listen to a lion’s
Stomach growling all day while watching
Cartoons and the trash the housewives are made
To watch in stagnant captivation:
I want the carnivals of work, under fluttering cerulean
Tarps or out in the open sky under the riotous
Tracks of slash pines,
Giving up into them easy, sluicing words of gusto,
Being a gentleman and passing my time,
Never having to escape to the other side of the
Canal again,
Just dreaming of her out in the open, putting it softly
To her throat,
In a way that should never have to be explained to any
Other of my less stranger sort of kind.

poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Added by Poetry Lover
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