Uranus and Other
Poems from Annie

                                   Uranus
    
	my anus 
	points east
	hands reaching 

	for tender weeds

	sun sweats the body

	why the taboo and shunning of the anus?

	great attention to the mouth:  talking
	eating kissing smiling 

	we focus on gesture and taking in food
	and then ignore it's passage (unless painful)
	and remain silent on the subject of defecation

	is this gross?

	expletives throw out shit and fuck feelings of 
	vast irritation and rejection

	ah but the women
	who give birth are aware of vast power
	of the uterus strongest muscle of the body

	surging into action after 20 (?) years of dormancy
	working relentlessly powered by hormones keyed
	intimately to survival of individual and species

	pumping pushing wringing out its walls
	ejecting the baby because of a signal
	the baby secreted

	this great shitting, a birth;
	awesome past the edge of the possible into the unknown depth/height of
	exertion/sensation/emotion

	birthing affects ur anus


                                  - Anne Whitefield
                                  Date: Sun, 21 Jun 1998

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                            Sing to Me of Swimming


	...and I'll serenade you with tales of
	the deep forest, alive with birdcalls,
	salamanders and lushgreen  nettle, jewelweed,
	smoke vine, trillium, wild cohosh and its 
	thousand cousins where runs West Coon Patch Branch
	delivering water to our resevoir which
	also collects silt in it's bottom and requires
	we siphon it out twice a year. in the summer siphoning
	is fun and cool getting wet on a hot day.  John
	balanced on the roof of the resevoir, leaning down
	to work the siphon hose, *slipped* and fell
	headfirst into the tank but caught himself by 
	the knees: "Help!" he said quietly but urgently
	and i scrambled up the hill, adreneline pumping,
	caught by vines and freed by desparation, grabbing
	his bib overalls and hefting him up so he could 
	get an arm out and pull up.  whew
	took me a few minutes to get collected
	but he had a cool head <s>
	and luckily his hat didn't sink

	annie who loves you
	and wants vicariously to swim


                                  - Anne Whitefield
                                  Date: Fri, 26 Jun 1998