by Julien Aklei

PAGE:

-Book One: The Ohio River-

1. .2. .3. .4. .5. .6. .7. .8. .9. .10. .11. .12. .13. .14. .15. .16. .17. .18. .19

2.

Red Hot Fire

Rolling green fields of Indiana
like the fuzzy fat back of a caterpillar
holding all three hundred pounds of you.
Grey shores of the Ohio, on the yellow
state of Kentucky, where I sit
reviewing my fingernails, which are nothing
like the red hot nails of your girlfriend.
Sitting on the shores of the Ohio, by the
water tower in a beach chair, reviewing
your body through the telescope in my
mind with curiosity and with lust, with
fire-lust, because I have sat here for many
days, on the gray edge of the river, like a
tiny port receiving all those things which
pass over the river, the misty ghosts that
fly at night, the hollow echo of steamships,
the thoughts which people emit in their
sleep, the songs of frail people who have
no audience, the clamorous silver of the
moon, and the baby boy blue of the morning.
All of these things I have received from the
river, but still I wait, futily, for your red
hot fire to swim across the river and
overtake me.

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