Desire

I want

not dainty bone china-cupped,
oh-so-polite, pinky-extended sips,
but guzzle-by-the-gallon,
drink-from-the-fire-hose-
two-hundred-eighty-psi-
Niagara-Falls volumes, and

inch-thick slices of hearty
multi-grain-hard-crusted-
with-stick-in-your-teeth-seeds-bread
(none of that bland
supermarket pablum)
slathered with
a heart attack of butter,

and Costco-sized bags
of original Ruffles
and the king-size,
five-to-a-package Reese's
peanut butter cups;
instead of those prim,
perfectly-spooned Pringles
or those deceitfully misnamed
“fun size” Halloween
disappointments,

and while we're at it, a California King
that-barely-squeezes-around-
the-stairwell-corners-on-the-way-to-
your-third-floor-walk-up-
as-your-friend-who-now-regrets-
offering-to-help-you-move-
sweats-under-the-weight mattress, and

not the miserly-parsed-out-
weekly-faux-cliffhanger-drama
of network tv,
but the don't-move-from-the-couch-
for-a-week-until-you-
start-to-smell-funny-
and-your-dog-looks-at-you-
with-her-“Are we ever going to go
for a walk again?”- eyes-
of-a-Netflix-streamed-
watch-of-every-episode-
of-The Wire binge,

and speaking of smells,
a wedge of the softest, ripest,
stinkiest spread-on-a-paper-
thin-wafer-hand-pressed-
by-Buddhist-monks-living-
in-a-monastery-
in-Vermont cheese,

and a bat-shit crazy,
adrenalin-fueled-hurtle-
off-the-cliff-and-plummet-
to-your-death-except-
you're-wearing-a-wing-suit-
and-not-some-tepid-
teeter-totter-on-a-
fenced-in-neighborhood-
watched-playground rush, and

not the miles-long-
lumbering-take-off-roll-
of-a-fully-fueled-oversold,
two-full-flight-crewed-
bound-from-LAX-to-Sydney 747,
but the 4G-pin-your-eyeballs-
back-in-your-brain-
throttle-to-the-firewall-
afterburners-howling-
carrier catapult launch,

and certainly not
the obligatory “Okay-I-guess-
it-has-been-three-weeks-
and- all-our-errands-are-run-
and-we-have-nothing-else-
to-do-so-let's-go-upstairs-
and-do-it” assignation,
but the twenty-something-
“I-don't-care-if-anyone-sees-us-
I-know-it's-a-public park-
ignore-that-family-having-a-picnic-
just-beyond-these-bushes-
Oh-my-God-
if-I-don't-have-you-now-
I-will-spontaneously-combust” passion

of You.

Niagra Falls, at night, with the falls lit up by brightly colored lights
An Atlas V rocket launches with the Juno spacecraft payload from Space Launch Complex 41 at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station in Florida on Friday, August 5, 2011.