Mardi Gras.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is a feast of
the body
in the days that come
and go

with nothing in purpose
but to free the soul,

there is this Mardi Gras
of limbs,
targeting the heart that
bleeds,

there is this dance of the
thighs and letting go of the rain
from the open
that spread of the feet of this
universe,
aimed at appeasing the longing
of the psyche,
for it has always been an insatiable
ground, thirsty from the start,
wallowing in the river of desire,
still hungry of the cyclone.