Slow Boat to Pound Town

in the Time of COVID

Michael Steffen

We’ve been isolating for weeks.

It’s time to forget what you know about me.

I’m in the mood for gland-to-gland combat,

for bending you over an armchair

and showing you the fifty states,

for cattle-prodding your oyster ditch with my lap rocket.

I’ve no idea what that means,

but it’s got to feel a whole lot better

than a Lysol vaccine. Release the Kraken!

Blitzkrieg mit dem fleischgewehr—

Lightning war with a meat rifle.

Use me now, disinfect me later—

let me play with the box our kid came in

and forget about death for a while.

Why shouldn’t we have a pants-off dance-off?—   

I’ve been knocked out by you since day 1,

and I know you’ve been eye-balling me.

What’s not to love?—

my thoughts are forbidden and exalted.

I can’t wait to put my ranch dressing

in your Hidden Valley. Put down your cosmo-rita,

let me rummage in your root cellar,

bow-chick-a-wow-wow. Let’s make a porno—

you can laugh at my fat, hairy ass,

and I at you, heels-to-Jesus.

Ecstasy trumps fear, trumps Trump,

so let’s do the horizontal greased-weasel tango.

Put some stank on my hang-down, baby.

I’ll get the camera, you get the handcuffs—

marital congress is in session. 

Michael Steffen’s fourth poetry collection is forthcoming from Main Street Rag Press. His work has appeared in a variety of literary journals, including Poetry, Poet Lore, Potomac Review, Rhino and others. New work has recently appeared in Third Wednesday, Chiron Review and The Comstock Review. Michael is a graduate of the MFA writing program at Vermont College and currently lives in Buffalo, NY.

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