Prose Poem: Education

Prose Poem: Education
  (with apologies to Walt Whitman)

Have you sought to sound the depths of human degradation? Snorkeled cesspools of the human soul on Tuesday afternoons and dredged the unshaved shadows of an upskirt late September afternoon? Have you squeezed your thighs together, felt the throbbing in your O-rings rising, humming open thigh tsunamis, sister joy to sweep you out to sea where you’ll be lost forever? Wrinkled flesh grown stiff from teasing, areola tracing, no one else admits to it but you can’t live without it.

Giving good as getting, flutter-tonguing swelling buds and stiffened stalks until the diamond glistens on the tip from corner street lamp spotlights. Have you ridden shadows, Spurs dug deeply into bedsheets ‘til the fountain spurts and shudders and you’re screaming, both together?

Come and stay the night with me, and you will learn what all your teachers never taught you, jailbait! Names of stars and gods (most having not one single vowel)! Indecencies, vulgarities, and anatomical impossibilities! Yes, you will know them all, taught from the book that’s bound in flesh. Indeed, your colleagues will confirm you “doctor of the fundamentals” - your panties missing but in fact not really missed at all.

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