How To Kiss A Rabbit

The rabbits, the car, the kiss.
Droopy, long-eared rabbits, the Wawa.
Breeding the rabbits is hard
because they're very high-strung.
The Wawa, the restaurant, the rabbit in the purse.
I saw your art at the library
and wanted to meet you,
so I got you hired.
The darkened car parked in front of the house;
sexual tension crushing us like faulty air bags.
These rabbits are show rabbits;
they win prizes.
My last boyfriend fucked me
on the floor behind the counter.
I want to kiss you.
Pink noses wiggling through chicken wire.
Pink tongues wiggling in mouths like struggling worms.
My Chinese zodiac sign is the rabbit.
Are you testing me?
The drawings, the old high school art teacher,
my hand on her thigh.
The kiss--completely unexpected,
startling, desperate and hungry;
more predatory than passionate.
Rabbits startle easily.
These rabbits are specially bred show rabbits
and they're very nervous.
My wife and I just split up;
we married too young.
The kiss--frenzied and overwhelming.
Let's slow down.
Kissing is sweeter when you start out slow.
When rabbits are insecure,
they can easily misinterpret things.
The car, the leather seats, the steering wheel,
my hand stroking her hair.
The barometer shifting from humid tropical lust
to cool low-pressure awkwardness.
When breeding show rabbits,
self-esteem issues among the bunnies are rare.
The Wawa, the car, the kiss,
wiggling pink noses.
Inexperienced tongues
that fail to offer reassurance.
Pink noses wiggling in straw-filled hutches.
The rabbits' long hair has to be combed constantly
to keep them competitive.
The Wawa, the kiss; what just happened?
Were you testing me?
If only rabbits could talk,
it would make raising them a lot easier.

David Aronson
May 2006