'a bite at dawn' exception to the rule of clear sky streaks of deep purple cloud leaking pink into low layers of dawn two thirds of a waning moon reflecting on the fact of Venus brightly whitely visible still two bells of light one gilded bronze and large the other silver tiny owls calling out and a couple of black woodpeckers sounds peppered with a touch of finches robins and some other unidentified flying objectors to the presence of two dogs slinking through low shadows of high ferns not that I was thinking of nature's early manifestations memories surfaced of her stripping a private performance culminating in her sitting down by a table and picking up a slim knife and an apple deftly peeled and sliced an eighth part of it dropped into her naked lap and wedged where her thighs met Mons Veneris she picked it up and held it out to me and I ignored the warning sign scrawled by a brightly red pubic hair and brought it to my mouth and bit Levi Wagenmaker If you've any comments about this poem, Levi Wagenmaker would be pleased to hear them.