Book of Desire
Serious young men in their faux casual suits, fresh
from work, they shoulder, they grind
forward, they bruise and they push—
in the end of the workday, bells ringing,
in the end of the day, I sing
halleluiah the men and their stubble
fresh emerging from their morning’s scraped and scented cheeks,
halleluiah the men and their ties
loosened, their shirts’ collars unbuttoning, one, then two,
arms raised for the taxi, arms raised for the bus strap,
arms in movement in speed certain in triumph
the day has ended and the men are on the move,
and I sing in praise of the belt,
the ring of the metal tongue slapping against the buckle, the release
and the whipping
through the loops, I praise the suit jacket, its label of origin, its secret
silk lining, luxury,
the gathered sweat in the pits, luxury,
so serious, their faces, composed like repose,
so serious their hands and their wrists,
the watch that winds with their bodies’ momentum,
the brown hair the black hair the gold
on knuckles, civilized, moisturized,
the men on the move on the make
in the streets to the doors of their women, their men,
their pocketed intentions
manifesting once more,
I sing in the end of the day,
their cuffs without fray
the men and their briefcases swinging.