Inevitable Creation

.

Returning
from the act
of putting poems in
a mail box

having stopped to milk
his bounty of sensation

carrying it
in an old cloth up
the stairs to be washed

he looks back seeing
a trail of bright cream

his fertility
too copious
to hold in his hands

dripping onto the banister

running
along the beams

Fearing discovery
he tries to wipe it off

spreading
inadvertently damp
enamel too thick
and adhesive
to remove
.

.