Lost Poem Recovered

In my bed

in my bed
lie the souls
of all redheads

in my bed
lie the hearts
of all poets

in my bed
in the middle of the night
lie the alabaster and the caramel
and the ebony and the freckled

after hours of gin
and hours of bourbon
egg creams,
stout and Steam

with a promise of coffee in the morning
and a promise
of hands, rope
and mouth throughout the night

and all of this in the name of the word
and all of this so that I may write
of the glory of wars
and the passion of whores
and the fear of impotency
overcome by your grace

in my bed
i see the back of your head
and I stroke your face
and I think of the next day to come
when you are gone
and I find another one.


© fprm, 3-2-08