975 Harvard | heat ii (desire thief) | Star Spangled Banner

975 Harvard

In the kitchen
next to the round, glass table
almost underneath the ceiling fan
there is an energy
I refuse

In the dark
one roommate asks:
do you feel it?
No

A blur
from the corner
of my eye
in the living room

The cat stole
my sex drive.
I'm certain of it.
Brushed past my
leg one afternoon
or morning while
I was busy making
coffee, or getting ready
to leave for work. 

Look at her: writhing 
on the hard wood floor.
Rubbing her elongated
body against the shoes
of any poor person
who’s near her.

Every now and then,
she'll take off 
running from one end 
of the loft to the other,
spinning in a circle
at least once as she goes. 

Nearly mad, her body 
screams. Need like wind
on a brush fire
swelling to burst 
inside her. 

As a little girl,
my grandmother
warned me 
of the nature of cats. 
They carry spirits, she said,
known familiar of witches,
vessels for any invisible 
thing passing by.

I'm certain
she stole my sex 
drive. Stole it,
running past me
a spinning circle
of desire.

america you gangster country don't you know how much I love you? slick slick 
you slither through satellites into the bedrooms of your countrymen your 
women's minds are consumed with you america your international ass all over 
the world they vie for your attention bow their heads kiss your pimp pinky ring 
america they all want you crawl through the cut barbed wire of your borders 
starve themselves on rubber rafts to float like stars onto your golden shore 
galaxy 

just for a taste of you a chance to dig their hands into the deep pockets of your 
opulent fantasy lay their bodies along the mechanized length of you america you 
ganster country plunging yourself into imaginations all over the world your 
acquisitions your conquests your dow figures hourglassing themselves into the 
minds of Lostho youth who lust after your myth of riches into the ears of Havana 
youth you whisper sweet nothings of independence beyond Independence into 
the slack sleeping mouths of American youth you push your barrel in say 
suck