John Grey

YOUR NEW LOVER EXPLAINS WHAT IT'S LIKE HAVING SEX WITH YOU


I don't satisfy
an old desire
but begin a new one.
It's like the places
I keep telling you
I wish to see:
the pyramids of Giza,
the slinky brown
Venetian canals.
I will go there someday
so I can long
for another journey
some place else.

I'm trying to tell you
it's impossible
to be at the center of anything,
that your body,
soft and willing as it is,
is the outer boundary
of another thing,
certainly not sex,
maybe not even
flesh and bone.

I don't stare out the window
at the moon.
I'm staring at the view from the moon.
Those aren't stars.
They're just me
demanding of the night sky,
"What else you got?"
And I even say "I love you,"
so I'll no longer have to.

John Grey is Australian born poet, who has been US resident since late seventies. Grey works as afinancial systems analyst and has recently published in Connecticut Review, Georgetown Review and REAL with work upcoming in Poetry East, Cape Rock and the Pinch.