Loathing Loss Poem by Warren Andersen

at time of publication
spread across the southeast portion
of a once great nation
shes hers women frau
those pearls gems alloys
that once creased my brow so
have their own new depths with which to probe
using instruments as varietated as their appetites
i think shiveringly of intimate nights
hands held in private places
under the lobe
in the nose
against the lip over the braces
shhh close your hearts ears
to the old halloo
that pushes on to private notions
of fantastical rekindled devotion
and reach your hand to feel
the temporary relieiving of that unbearble itch
culminating in the noise of history
squish