solipsism

write down, sit, the dictionary
falls over beside the bed
recall a floating feeling after
a binge night, what to say
to her damn demanding eyes
her flicker response to my fall
and fuck you’s all around
the yard strewn with cans old
friends in town don’t say no
or get lost after all, what’s a
party when i’d rather be buried

in her breasts or mound of
venus, rather be soaked not
sodden - a sod - bird beggar
left to sleep it off with a tome
of language besides who’s allegiance
is my sense to: her legs, cleft,
navel, iliac crest, lips, oh what
full lips from between which
such cramped oft languorous
much melancholy dribbles...
but to take me into her mouth
and want so much from me
at once, what graceless beauty
but beauty!