I dive into the black cave

of volcanic fossil deposits,

and feel my way around

the ephemeral bricolage

of hot springs bubbling up

with a delicate fragrance

of chamomile and thyme.

It softens my heart to view

a velvety bronze snake

nuzzle a gecko in the mud.

A lone frog fornicates

at the edge of a tepid pool.

I find the inverted ridge

of St Grobian’s Cathedral

and the skeletal remains

of subterranean nymphs

found at the Cheddar Gorge.

Maze-like passages lead

to deep limestone canyons.

Cascading waterfalls

create natural sculptures

huddled between erotic

stalactites and stalagmites.

Lost in this dream-like grotto,

I swing and sway to the rhythm

of a dolomite drip as I once did

to the groovy drum beat of BB King

under the boardwalk in Coney Island.

As I leave these exotic formations,

I’m reminded of the Talmudic obligation

to pleasure one’s wife before oneself.