An Ode to What Can Not Be Explained

By: Lucinda Kerrigan
March 12, 1997

Draped across a leg
The lover awaits for a
Reluctant feeling to disintegrate
Then, as if a cannon was shot
A storm arises in his groin
To create a spurge of disbelief
And a realization with an array
Of rainbows crusading down
Into a place with a vast
Recollection and variation
Of meanings that reminds
A prospector of an underground operation
That was taking place
Sometime during the Civil War,
Which has not really ceased it seems,
For the modern world can easily verify
Such a queer and commentary speculation;
Love and hate for the fellow human