Below the Belt
“Sometime I’ld divide,/ And burn in many places” ~ Ariel
I feel like Ariel released and loosed
Upon the ranging world. I don’t have wings,
But airlines hold the globe in thrall. Seduced
By jet-fuel highs, it and I hope for springs
Of panting waters as in Yellowstones.
We both know the Continental Divide
Between the heights and depths. The acetones
Peculiar to the sweat of sex on hide
And crust acquaint us each with our own fate,
Tsunamis, eathquakes and fornications
Heaving up everywhere, anywhere, late
And early, as plague-like infestations.
We both divide and join and burn and melt
Beneath an opening tectonic belt.