She’s flat-chested and bald between her legs,
just like me. Not exactly. More tummy.
But she has three boys who moon and beg,
who don’t even care if she’s a dummy!
Sister says reflections off pump and pearl
will make a window of a girl’s dress.
I know boys who laugh with their eyes, so sure
of success—if not I, then others undress.
Yeah, they were naked all right, the whores,
jiggling, cooing, squatting, touching themselves.
About as exciting as two-by-fours.
I took a big one—boobs like swinging bells.
I stretch every minute looking to see
that we’re still here beneath this crooked butte.
A short nap has creased my unworthy dreams.
Alone, she’d trade the sun her red suit.
I wonder what he’s like on trapeze?
She locks her legs about his waist and must
feel it. That and the way he grabs her knees
And dives between them, flying with lust!
Later, she said, Lover, you are a top,
spinning madly. Clear the floor and drill
the points of the compass until we drop
down blurred dimensions, dizzy, almost ill.
Holding hands, the five dancers circle
on rippling grass, naked in spirit.
As the dance turns each dancer’s miracle,
the virgin breaks the ring without regret.
bathe in cool waters, or pluck roses
for the golden basket. Stirred, she flees
the crescent-moon-crowned bull’s hypnosis.
The King has said, “Her love is food for war.”
A slut fattens him daily for the job.
How they walk! Their genitals must be sore.
In the tower, his Queen gives birth to sobs.VIII
Pregnant, your belly grew longer, then round.
Your breasts too. Painful for you. Not for me.
I watched you sleeping nude and listened, found
a new life swimming in an ancient sea.
If there’s nothing but eyes to justify
her expense, what is all this darkness?
She ignores the child. When I get mad, she cries.
Mother laughs, thinking, poetic justice.