May Heket the missing fertility
frog
be found and to it may she hop
May she jerk and wend her way
for love across the rain forest
Let her be with gravity
Let it be just hot enough
Attend no street sound
Allow only yon moist Heket
She’s on top of that hillside
in Weehawken calling down rain
prepped to sing
Is she out of her head
She does not know from urgency
Her little dimpled throat lets
fly
She gets even wetter and starts
to sing