Psalm Of The Explaination-Dwellers

by April Bernard

“See, here’s how it is, there’s two different ways we look at the world.
Man sees a woman, he thinks, Could I do it to her? and it doesn’t
Seem mysterious, he knows already pretty well
What he can and can’t do, so it’s a matter of aesthetics:
Like, do I like a big ass? the man will say.
Like, do I prefer dark meat near the bone?
And then it’s a matter of finesse and luck, but all along
He knew what he was going to do and how it was going to feel.
Now, with women, see. A woman sees a man, she might think,
Ah, the finest of profiles. She might wonder, What lurks?
But experience has taught her that none of this
Looking, comparing, examining labels will ever tell her
What he can do.
And what he can do tells her what she can do.
So it’s a mystery always,
And also makes her more charitable. Because maybe the guy
With the sled dog eyes and the cauliflower nose, maybe he’s
Got a long sweet one that won’t quit, maybe he can make her
Sing the Ave Maria, who knows?”

No, no. I have another explanation. Please listen. There is
Only so much love in the world, and it got used up
    By our ancestors
So it’s like recirculated air in a sick building, see?
Filled with the disease and the sadness and lust that went on
Before, all this petrific honey thick with dirt,
Sap from ancient hives, legs and wings and striped abdomens
That once throbbed but now are stilled in amber hard and golden
And unlikely to melt in the damp of your mouth.