Lucía M. Polis The Poetry of

This poem appears in We Were Hateful People.

this town is small
and full of curves and hills and rises

your basement suite
is wider than it looks

you like to complain about the mess
i see none


slowly  like a starved dog
I am tamed to the bed from the ottoman

you offer to cuddle
I accept

we do it a dozen different ways
        arm on top
                   leg at bottom
    your head on my chest


your body burns
so full of curves and hills and rises

from time to time
my dormant penis meets your ass

tangential sparks arc
i remind myself I'm a guest in this house


the traffic outside
is like crashing waves

your breath is steady and calm
I sense your leg's gentle jerk

next  your toothbrush quietly sings
as you get ready for work