A sexy river, love of landscape poem from my good friend Robin – well worth taking some time to read this!
A few years ago I found myself writing this poem about the river Severn or Sabrina in earlier records. It is a kind of full on erotic vision of my local river which I’m sure more people would admit to if we didn’t think we would be burned as witches or wizards.
Birth is the river.
Conception is the river.
Her sticky wet banks
seeded with moon pale elvers
surging in wriggling coital urge.
Sabrina orgasms with a rushing foamy bore.
The single minded wave
tears up and boils all
into Sabrina’s sexual frenzy.
Her waters throbbing
teeming with little fishes
oozing out in wild swirls across farmland and into our houses.
Infecting Gloucestershire’s population
with Sabrina’s springtide sex drive,
it drives the obliterating surrender of every animal to procreate.
For life’s call is absolutely naked
like flowers coming out.
Men and women step outdoors
To breath the air,
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