Oh Bibbles, black little bitch
I’d never have let you appropriate me, had I known.
I never dreamed, till now, of the awful time the Lord must have, “owning” humanity,
Especially democratic live-by-love humanity.
Oh Bibbles, oh Pips, oh Pipsey
You little black love-bird!
Don’t you love everybody!
Just everybody.
You love ’em all.
Believe in the One Identity, don’t you,
You little Walt-Whitmanesque bitch?
First time I lost you in Taos plaza,
And found you after endless chasing,
Came upon you prancing round the corner in exuberant, bibbling affection
After the black-green skirts of a yellow-green old Mexican woman
Who hated you, and kept looking round at you and cursing you in a mutter,
While you pranced and bounced with love of her, you indiscriminating animal,
All your wrinkled miserere Chinese black little face beaming
And your black little body bouncing and wriggling
With indiscriminate love, Bibbles;
I had a moment’s pure detestation of you.
As I rushed like an idiot round the corner after you
Yelling: Pips! Pips! Bibbles!
I’ve had moments of hatred of you since,
Loving everybody!
“To you, whoever you are, with endless embrace!”—
That’s you, Pipsey,
With your imbecile bit of a tail in a love-flutter.
You omnipip.
Not that you’re merely a softy, oh dear me no.
You know which side your bread is buttered.
You don’t care a rap for anybody.
But you love lying warm between warm human thighs, indiscriminate,
And you love to make somebody love you, indiscriminate,
You love to lap up affection, to wallow in it,
And then turn tail to the next comer, for a new dollop.
And start prancing and licking and cuddling again, indiscriminate.
Oh yes, I know your little game.
Yet you’re so nice,
So quick, like a little black dragon.
So fierce, when the coyotes howl, barking like a whole little lion, and rumbling,
And starting forward in the dusk, with your little black fur all bristling like plush
Against those coyotes, who would swallow you like an oyster.