Gleamings

what am i saying
i mean i want to hear
the music of your eyes

to bask in it,
come what may.

moving a Brillo Box
around.
that sort of thing.

like when a urinal, a kettle,
a comb become

more equipmental,
reified, immodest.

i want-so far, so good-
to place your oyster
on top of my whitewood.

to grow less
accusative of your anus,
your secretion.

like when thingly, crumbly,
a ledger plops down

in front of my groin.