Jazzing

 

She calls from across the
street a serpentine tongue twisting
along the coiled
rhododendron drawl of the telephone's
nervous system, take your
panties off, her wet temple
planted against the drywall panel,
an advanced mosquito strategy
developing in the war room,
and on pine needles
and on black cold stone
and on the midnight ground
we skipped crickets we skipped
crawling ants we skipped an unlikely
encounter with that
sacred hairy growling forest god,

I lift one corner cowardly, then
the next with courage,
she flashes the porch light a pertinent portion
same as a flasher in a city park, shadows play
in the apartment twilight over
damp toddler toys tossed willy-nilly in
the unkissed tufts of heather 
company of sleeping snakes,
even sweet things slumber,
but tonight I am jazzing and putting on a show.

TA