Silverhill Press's first poetry publication.
She Loves An Angry Man
Everybody needs an angry man to love
not a violent or an aggressive man.
no
just the rush
that comes with riding the space
beside impotent
comical fury. As his face
grows red I can breathe
and find a place
for myself.
Relax. I love you. Every week
we drive to the car wash.
for the full valet and wax
and fuck in the coffee shop
simmering over the Saturday papers and
Later
on the way home
every rain drop's touch
every splash tut tut
every brush of a smut on the car why
Why ?
has god done this to me
Why ?
would nature
be so cruel
and his
rage washes in waves
over my bones
my back
relaxes
my shoulder blades
my toes
like a vigorous jacuzzi of fury
Whenever it fades
I feel the knot in my chest return
grow tight until I let him know about
another scratch in the paintwork
or a breach of the etiquette
of the roundabout
and he begins to rage rage
Rage again at my fingertips like natural gas
he does it with a secret smile
in the corner of his mouth.
Everybody needs an angry man to drive
To feel the laugh in the lips of an angry man
Everybody needs an angry man
To love.