THE FIG TREE
After the evening sex act
With my crazy ex-wife
Who knows professional tricks
And can work her body like a whore
Answered the question
Now is there peace between us?
The silent knowledge gathered
Steam of the power of woman
Over man reigns immortal
Like the truth of scripture
As she fired up the brim stone
To make me step back and squeal “oh”.
She molded me like clay on a potters wheel
Looked intensely into my eyes
And said, “I will give it all to you!”
I forgot the hurt, the indiscretion
That made the burning stars
Fall out the sky like dying embers.
We got to the soft conversation
Instead of the earthquake vibrations
Of anger, and saw myself as culprit
For every human action produces a result
So the cursed fig tree
Will never again bare fruit.
Arnal Kennedy
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