Leave it all up to me

 

All we want is to succumb to a single kiss

that will contain us like a marathon

with no finish line, and if so, that we land

like newspapers before sunrise, halcyon

mornings arrived like blue martinis. I am

learning the steps to a foreign song: her mind

was torpedo, and her body was storm,

a kind of Wow. All we want is a metropolis

of Sundays, an empire of hand-holding

and park benches? She says, “Leave it all up to me.”

 

 

Major Jackson (USA, 1968 -)

To lear more about the poet and his books: http://www.majorjackson.com

Leave a Reply