APRES ROULETTE D'AMOUR

Le Desir

les poumons brulent
les temps grondent
la nuit roule
dans mes yeux
par ce soleil

at the same time
at the end of every day
i get that sinking feeling
with the sun
dropping into the sea

i crawl
crumpled under
the fur rug
you must know
so well by now

hibernating
for the next three months
of winter
my head
popping out in spring
hey ring a ding a ding

or

I could take
a hot bubble bath
sluice jugs of foam
over myself
sip sweet port
write wet poems
and never sign
another cheque
until this passes

until I slip its moorings
and send it floating
out into the ocean waves