Coconuts
by Doug Tanoury

Two coconuts on the kitchen counter
Awaken primal urges in me,
Lying one against the other,
Looking somewhat feminine,
The rounded curve of breasts
Or buttocks, picking them up
With hands stretched open
To see how much can fit within
My grasp, weighing each with
Gentle lifting motions, and
hearing the slight slush of inner
Juices. Ah,
coconuts call up a savage hunger.