not attached to a theme

One poet I admire greatly is Sharon Olds.  I like her poems for a variety of reasons.  They are gutsy, real.  They explore the mysteries of being with someone, of being a mother to someone.  When I first read her work, I was drawn to the poems that were exacting in their descriptions of physical love, and the depth of emotion that was associated with it. Those poems are still great, but the one for today takes those ideas and turns it differently, in a good way.

Primitive
by Sharon Olds

I have heard about the civilized,
the marriages run on talk, elegant and
honest, rational. But you and I are
savages. You come in with a bag,
hold it out to me in silence.
I know Moo Shu Pork when I smell it
and understand the message; I have
pleased you greatly last night. We sit
quietly, side by side, to eat,
the long pancakes dangling and spilling,
fragrant sauce dripping out,
and glance at each other askance, wordless,
the corners of our eyes clear as spear points
laid along the sill to show
a friend sits with a friend here.

– from Satan Says

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