Mollusks
Yesterday was a series of assaults
B came at me on the library steps
all hands jutting toward me
and me just trying to figure how
to turn my body so they land some
place less personal than their aim
And then later the old man
ruddy-faced and white-haired
at the podium calling out down with
mollusks and I think am I a mollusk?
It’s true there’s something bivalvular
about me I’ve often felt bivalvular
(like a wound sucking sucking)
Oh, he’s a nice enough guy you know
and he didn’t mean anything by it
I’m just thinking of all those
unintentional assaults usually unnoticed
inconsequential like the hour
of our enclosure warm normally
but today broken open like a pomegranate
when the suggestion of affection surfaces
Understanding no longer concerns me
Please let’s not talk of love