eCoitus
I poked “get mail" blearily and
a yeasty pearl of life
pooled,
contracted,
stilled its
concentric waves --
waited for its skin to gel,
rocked & rolled --
tiny porpoises
shivering
beneath the skin.
(Circle, circle, circle
backs humped):
"Ready."
"Get Set..."
And like a pea in a shooter,
it jetted from the screen
caromed from my nose,
hit the desk
and bounced,
an opalescent jewel
wobbling,
(one side flattened
by rampant pawings in the tunnel)
sorts itself with a
Jeeves-like shake,
a snazzy umbrella
in one hand and
a picnic basket in the other.
Hypnotized
by the aurora borealis
swirling beneath the
cloudy surface of
that swollen seed
as it tapped its toe and
wagged its watch,
a peculiar urgency
seized me.
The pearl frowned,
wondering if I knew what waited,
noted the pulse at my throat,
the breath,
the rise and fall.
"No need to keep the ocean waiting,"
it murmured.