By Gordon Massman

I have shorn and given to you delilah my hair, old squirrel, dog
carcass, my might, my potency like a dead cabbagehead, I loved
you like a spec the vacuuming suction, you pulled me back into
the cigarette, the paper unburnt, virginal, after blowing me out in
clouds, in rings, you silver gowned sophisticate, single malt, ice,
was it Barnard? Bryn Mawr? cultural anthropology? academia's
daiquiri cold, Alaskan moonchip planted inside neck skin, per-
manently, dear, human males rarely control sexual politics, yes,
I know, but still, kneecaps resemble monkey skulls, elbows the
cartilaginous nose, sampson hair tongue nodes i've shaved,
sprinkled over you, dish babe slut love desperate for, my shoul-
der blades shriveled doric pillars, chicken wings, your sandal's
big as cincinatti, brassiere cup guadalajara, ten thousand feet
above tree line mountaineer i stand in fanny pack like an idiot,
i've doffed toupee to your rhino, girly girl i'm broke on the
wheel, tatter windmill sails in low hung trees like medieval
battle aftermath, you egg beast, man predator, industrial milk-
er, in the barn fucked my lizard father, giggled, checked the
navy bean soup with a finger like an infant's fever, afterward,
nonchalant, insouciant, i unable to wring your neck, fingers bur-
nt candlewicks, i suppliant worship you, asian armored you,
my thrusting bony hips like a mechanized macabre skeleton
rattling themselves on massive sheets, dead desert cow, one'd
think it incontestable and necessary to my and clan dignity:
ditch the bitch for one of the innumerable available obedient
alternative chicks but hairless, prostrate I'm whipped whipped.