HER LEGS Poem by Jacob Groot

Missing body: I am you
in your fields when I put on
your clothes to undress you: I don't
know you but my crotch unzips
you and I hammer you

into my nuts on the trembling
of your lips, flash of sheaves, the
shot illumined, you shake them a little to soap
up the cattle, in the same grasp
given the cream of your

trees, quite spacious, the jewel
from which your golden tresses, their blessings, wish to
take your legs. Utterly forsaken
body: I neither vein your handiwork nor drill you
further but still I won't leave

you in the lurch. Yet your concerns are
so far from mine that how you clearly hide your true nature
steels me. For I hit you hard: with
the means: to the end of killing you though
you feel nothing