Andrew Demcak, “Tattoo”
Today, two poems by Andrew Demcak.
I see his surfboard scritch-scratched by sand.
Damp bolts of kelp furled,
the hues of lead.
Urchin beds improved after day’s calm.
soft plink of buoy bells.
Tidal boy gouges an under-carpet of coastline.
Slash of an anxious fin felt,
spattered by the waves’ perfumed crests.
Cock tip salt-white, etched,
a slick turret.
My first sex, spread-eagle on a tern’s nest.
Sun sparkles on your tattoo, a carp’s
skin, the image of yourself. One instant:
the reflection of us, of bed, our ways
of being human. Insatiable glans
of my journey. My words rhymed, a dark
insistence in the organs. Your bright cock:
its erotic paste direct from lovers’
repetitions. Your shaft issues its dreams.
Balls-out honesty beneath your Levi’s.
Direct lover: your shaft dreams its issues.
You’re big-cocked. My verbs unwind a tight
resistance in the organs. My journey,
your insatiable glans. This first instant:
aroma of us in bed, of new days,
of being human. The sun sparkles on
your skin, your wet tattoo of a carp’s fin.
ANDREW DEMCAK is an award-winning poet and novelist whose work has appeared in print and on-line in national and international magazines, literary journals, web-zines, blogs, and anthologies. His most recent book of poetry is A Single Hurt Color (GOSS 183::Casa Menendez Press, 2010). He is busy finishing up his new novel, Ghost Songs, at the request of his literary agent, Carolyn French, at Fifi Oscard Inc., NY.
“Abalone Cove” was first published in Poets & Artists‘ September 2009 “Self-Portrait Issue.” It appears here with permission.