Where are all the hedonists?
Hiding in the urban weeds?
Lashing their flesh with prickles and
Stinging nettles
Desire numbed by humming bees.
Are they stuck in the suburbs?
Squeezed by the narrow sphincters
Of the properly engaged
Sterilizing themselves with
Lawnmower blades.
Are they holed up in the mountains?
Weathered faces whittled like stakes
They pound the frozen land
Until it breaks
Her curves held tightly in her wintery hands.
This spirit sprints across an empty beach
Collapses on her back
Unable to catch her breath
Fiddling with her broken straps,
Then she moves along through the night alone
Wondering where the hedonists
Have gone.
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