Your underwear is black —

(what else is nonexistent)

Even a wet miracle melts

and unsnaps,

as your legs lapse

to be plundered there.

Your underwear is gone,

peeled back from fragrant marshes

where horrible pink beauty, (dumb

spittled lack),

keens the attack

to hardening fun.

Gone from memory's tombs,

wake to rush the riffed meadows!

Armories, balls, lift from the brush

a cannon!

(Creamy Dannon

tempts hungry bridegrooms!)

Raise purply, blushing

shotgun to rage of wonder

till amber frisks the foliage

forever,

over clever

furious gushing.