MORTAL COIL

  by Bates Corlieu

come lean heavy
we will invertebrates be
writhe and squiggle
on night’s plump pillow
my brave     well shaved
giddy-up guy
you deserve a sweet thrashing
                    a good tongue lashing
a fleshy flivver to skirr above the test

so we:           Side-Winder
                     Thigh-Climber

fall prey
rope twining
knit and purling
ever tighter creeping circles
rapt spirals
of braided tongues and twisted fate
upward ‘till the clinch of bursting
drops us dizzy     sweetly swirling
Water down the drain