love poet http://www.caveatlector.com/taxonomy/term/42/atom/feed 2008-03-16T14:22:33+00:00 duvet http://www.caveatlector.com/content/duvet 2008-08-21T06:46:17+00:00 2008-08-21T06:46:17+00:00 Chris a warm call under a warm feather duvet worn like a lover a full half hour before the alarm sounds its ghastly racket. a portable phone flexing its 900MHz across the thousands of kilometers spanning the skin of my duvet, the space of air to the base, and the grand land of the New World, the Peaceful Sea, and a POTS, copper wire, fibre optics, satellite, spread spectrum, repeaters, switching, bandwidth, international subset, substrate, irradiating the rubbery leather of the Sperm hunting the giant giant prehensile squid. where the pipe is laid, where the optics chirp their handshake, their telephony, their protocol, their laser beam words. enough to convey softness the same way it was harsh before, the way it conveys sadness and apology the same way it was hurt before. complaining about the static. complaining about the clicks of the rushing pod of porpoise and the moaning of the migrating humpback as it tries to sing us back to sweet sleep.

©1998 chris abraham
]]> a warm call under a warm feather duvet worn like a lover a full half hour before the alarm sounds its ghastly racket. a portable phone flexing its 900MHz across the thousands of kilometers spanning the skin of my duvet, the space of air to the base, and the grand land of the New World, the Peaceful Sea, and a POTS, copper wire, fibre optics, satellite, spread spectrum, repeaters, switching, bandwidth, international subset, substrate, irradiating the rubbery leather of the Sperm hunting the giant giant prehensile squid. where the pipe is laid, where the optics chirp their handshake, their telephony, their protocol, their laser beam words. enough to convey softness the same way it was harsh before, the way it conveys sadness and apology the same way it was hurt before. complaining about the static. complaining about the clicks of the rushing pod of porpoise and the moaning of the migrating humpback as it tries to sing us back to sweet sleep.

©1998 chris abraham
]]> Lustiness http://www.caveatlector.com/content/lustiness 2008-08-21T05:16:30+00:00 2008-08-21T05:16:30+00:00 Chris The lust stings my thighs with
Fishing barbs -- it is impossible
Not to twist and revel in past
Sexual soups and my penis and
Head conspire against me
In their infection of delicious
Innuendoes.

The prude can excites me
With her steady repression --
The imagined red nipple
Held firm in underwire,
Nestled in starched sturdy fabric,
Runs electric.
The heart of the matter.

I see myself an obvious man
of illicit intent, my raunchy brow
Dotted sheen sweat,
an admittance
Of phallic degeneration.

Thighs interest me more than
The lips for they support,
Hug, press, sometimes undulate
Underneath while the lips
Only consume and then render
Useless pulp.

©1995 chris abraham
]]> The lust stings my thighs with
Fishing barbs -- it is impossible
Not to twist and revel in past
Sexual soups and my penis and
Head conspire against me
In their infection of delicious
Innuendoes.

The prude can excites me
With her steady repression --
The imagined red nipple
Held firm in underwire,
Nestled in starched sturdy fabric,
Runs electric.
The heart of the matter.

I see myself an obvious man
of illicit intent, my raunchy brow
Dotted sheen sweat,
an admittance
Of phallic degeneration.

Thighs interest me more than
The lips for they support,
Hug, press, sometimes undulate
Underneath while the lips
Only consume and then render
Useless pulp.


©1995 chris abraham

]]> When You Sit Quietly Next to Me http://www.caveatlector.com/content/when-you-sit-quietly-next-me 2008-03-16T14:22:33+00:00 2008-03-16T14:22:33+00:00 Chris

Reading from Norton's that poem you've been
Saving for me with a yellow tab.
It stews when the leaves are shut --
The energy mainlines through you until
You ground it into me.
The chattering verse slips to the right,
Then up,
Catty-corner to where we were before.
Your eyes tick towards me to judge reaction --
But this song moves too rapidly for you
And you become muddled like a pianist
On new music.
Some notes need to be replayed --
The rhythm reëstablished.

©1994 Chris Abraham
]]>

Reading from Norton's that poem you've been
Saving for me with a yellow tab.
It stews when the leaves are shut --
The energy mainlines through you until
You ground it into me.
The chattering verse slips to the right,
Then up,
Catty-corner to where we were before.
Your eyes tick towards me to judge reaction --
But this song moves too rapidly for you
And you become muddled like a pianist
On new music.
Some notes need to be replayed --
The rhythm reëstablished.


©1994 Chris Abraham
]]>