iRock

iRock

there’s no shock theories or spark
theories in physics books about
the kind of electricity we generate
or word that it
plays havoc with me hair

how quickly you shine inside me
i readily made room for your smile and
laughter even storing
my past in the attic to accommodate
your insecurities
not that it helped you knowing there
was a mad woman in boxes
living in the attic
screaming down doom and gloom pointing
out through the picture window
beyond the view looking
far out into the distance to where
fluorescent men harvest wind with
cloud scythes

at night we can feel the earth move
not in an orgasmic or even organic way
just a crew of dirty
frackers extracting the jumpin’ jack
flash from grey faced shale

as i lay in your arms floating far
in the sargasso sea it’s as if
a light bulb
flicks on
and i recall the scintillating buzz
of our love and think that if we forget
fracking and wire up our mattress springs to
harness our motion for the national grid
we could fuck for electricity
and in doing so make
the world a brighter place