To Florida: on the eve of the
1976 Presidential Preference Primary
I.
media men, with lens and booms,
criss-cross your body
from Gulf to Ocean
weaving wires to hold you fast
like a giant sleeping
Gulliver.
II.
stunned by unfamiliar faces
running over your chest
all smiling and waving
saying little nothings like
"me! "me!"
III.
from far down in sandy thighs
the word begins to creep upward
gaining volume and force as it builds
and as the media men
lend the world’s eyes and ears
you ejaculate a name
showering life all over him
with your electorate sperm.
IV.
the whole nation,
having gotten you off,
heads for Illinois.