Hef brings me flowerstiger lilies, ochre veineddowncast, sleek black cups
small shadows, are thepuckers in his pyjamaswhere his skin caves in
tired profligate, Isigh and pour the oil alongyour circular sheets
thinking of all thetimes, or women on this bedglossy old bunnies
I imagine theirbreasts, plate of fried eggs, a rowof tonsured monks' heads
his tongue slithers, gauntvoluptuary, uglyold man, my eyes close
when I roll his nameNer. along my tongue, like theline of cold test tubes
thin bottled semen,he wants to plant it, deeplyin my flat belly
Hugh junior, and, orCarietta, a child ispacked in dry blue ice
in silk pyjamasthey have an emperor's crestit is dark in there
but it's cold asthe green jacuzzi, bubblesare clouds on its face
I will crush the glasswith the fingers in his backand pile on my rings
and all the fur coatsand move down the circularstairs, bloated with gold
the flowers are avenus-flytrap, with red curlsflames and noxious breath
his betrayal givesme granite fists, girls scattermovie stars crumple
as I run away,from the gaudy prison cell,of tinsel and skin
I'll sue him and writeand build a home, in thedesert, on the sun
a sequined empress,a mirage -- in loungewear andharlequin glasses
