I sit in bed in a light stupor.
Last night we fucked. I mean /really/ fucked.
We were high and she was dancing.
I'm not a child anymore.
But then, she wakes up and shuffles by.
She sees me through the cracked door and enters,
Asking me to tuck her in.
Maybe we are always children.
| "we were high and she was dancing/|
I'm not a child anymore"
really like those two lines...there is such depth to them...and then the full circle when she asks you to tuck her in...
but the indication from the piece is that maybe the speaker also needs to be tucked in...
in some ways, we are always children.
this is one of the very few times that i am comfortable with "fuck" being used in a poem...often it just feels there for shock value...and takes away from the poetical nature of the piece...but here...the difference is evident between making love and just fucking...although either one may produce offspring...and in some ways commitment can spring, even from a one nighter.
either way, the act..even if a one night dance has its repercussions and complications.
the juxtaposition between being children and bearing children but always remaining children...very interesting...
much more than meets the eye in this piece.
|| Posted on 2012-05-12 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] |