From: cet@world.std.com (Clyde E Tressler)
Subject: chaim --clyde
Organization: The World Public Access UNIX, Brookline, MA
Date: Thu, 20 Aug 1992 22:35:14 GMT

          Chaim Flemly and his Surfeit of Eros

 
          Despite that 
          he was quite fat,
          and fat 
          as we know
          will 
          stopper the heart
          by 
          infinitesimal accretion
          Playing tortoise 
          to your
          diurnal addition
          of 
          hair upon hair
          to 
          the 
          clot in the 
          bathtub drain.

          at my age 
          the numbers add up
          Perhaps they reach
          past ten
          each day
          One never counts
          except awash
          in the 
          dreamy twilight
          when 
          all measurements abound
          when the
          judge at his bench
          bangs down
          the gavel
          on your
          greedy fingers
          Alas for the
          macroeconomics
          of  the
          hairline recession...

          Chaim with his 
          coronary
          arteries
          likely clogged
          nonetheless
          suffered
          no
          diminution
          no occlusion
          of
          outward flow
          of 
          vital  impulse power
          and 
          directed at 
          that
          time 
          towards  my girlfriend.

          On account of
          his extra
          weight
          and 
          unaccommodating
          bone structure,
          this gush
          of Eros
          was 
          met  with
          some slight degree
          of
          dismay on her part.
          But compassion commingled
          She proffered a single
          kiss on his
          jowls within jowls 
          this sanguine kiss
          this  genuine kiss
          provoked a shiver of angst
          throughout
          the opulent corpus
          the corpulent opus
          of the
          ever-phlegmatic Chaim.
          "Inside me," he explained,
          "Thanatos rolled over
          in
          his sleep
          when you did
          what you did to me.
          I feared he might awake,"
          Chaim expounded
          in a 
          thirteen page
          letter
          inked with a fountain pen,
          the letters like thick
          bent wires.
          You had to hold
          the paper to a light
          to convince
          yourself
          he hadn't
          torn through
          the page
          with his
          heavyset intentions
          his
          sweat-soaked sincerity
          "I fear that
          Clyde
          is wrong for you,"
          he prophesied.

 
          My retort:
          a compound
          vituperation
          formulated
          to attack
          the 
          central
          nervous system
          at 
          its
          soft spot:
          "She and I 
          share a bed
          ha
          ha."

          What germ cell
          tilled
          beneath
          what
          furrowed brow?
          What seed
          in 
          what
          receptive soil?
          What
          garden of
          possibility
          choked by weeds
          of enmity?

          Chaim and his
          surfeit of Eros
          his 
          kettle boiling over
          and
          my flame
          extinguished
          by
          unforseeable
          circumstance.

           


                        clyde
                        cambridge
                        august 92