|
The Purr
by Molly Peacock
As you stand still in the hall thinking what
to do next and I approach you from behind,
I think I must be best: your naked
rump scalloped beneath the plumb
line of your spine's furred tree. But
as I catch the concentration in the kind
angling of your head towards the cats and tread
catlike myself behind you, you scrotum
hung like an oriole's nest, I cut
beneath your outstretched arm and find
I'm hungry for my future. The mysterious thrum
that science can't yet explain awakes a hum
in me, the sound something numb come alive makes.
"The Purr" reprinted from Original Love
by Molly Peacock, © 1995, W.W. Norton & Co., Inc.
|
