celebration (OR) i haven't posted poetry in awhile, so. . .
(altered slightly,) To plasticpanties/The Immaculate Sarah Person
confirmation
it’s in a very beautiful person;
not in a mismatch of garb that nonetheless
looks very smashing,
not the smiles & eyes always finding other
smiles & eyes pleasing pals
for the talking & smoking-
yet yes that they pierce a particular party
with a candor intoxicating,
not in the filthy fucking toes from
walking in flip flops down
forever fallen leaves of sidewalk,
nor the beads of lovely drink nuzzled in corners-
cocktails on lips
coating the palette
marinating the tongue and mouth
for delicious kiss dealt for cigarette,
nor the pots the bowls,
not the kitchen equipment that buoys the body,
not in the hello neverending
or the goodbyes that never will be,
not even emotion
that hangs with such bounty in the belly-
so much the longing the lasting, but.
it is epiphany in the process
whereby hereby
very being qua being
becomes a drumbeat
to these eddies in
a very beautiful person.