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The Original Self-Pleasure Equation

& other inconsiderate lilies. Or any mineral aspiring to ambulate. Which is not to say living in close quarters. Leaves rubbing & rustling, promiscuous breeze egging them on. To carry on tastefully until the bitter end. To stay on the lookout for aught nubile in negligée. Not to be neglected like the young & juicy fancy their feelings (to the swell of strings).  In other words America & its discontents, table of. Quantity, quality, & other mysterious divides. Yet another veiled Islamic reference. No rest for the wary. No wrest for the offended infidel smashing bottles on officious effigies. To be faithful & timid, to redirect resentment ‘til it rolls over & submits. Remember what you never understood. Reciprocate. Fill the gaps with measured starts. Sprinkle with gestures rationalized & inapposite. 

Posted 09/08/14
This poem first appeared in The Awl (thanks to Mark Bibbins).
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