| The Wish Her lean body, as a cupcake Fits one candle, tilts, as if inside Pendulums hit by blasts and thrusts of bass Ricochet, as in truth the colors mango and avocado Oscillate over her body. Cross-stitched And under the table, her knees, her ankles, Ostensible, relate to me in ways I cannot relate to myself. Desire for the light-switch flipped off, for her checkered skirt, Tossed, our opulence lost, little shreds of panties on the floor, Ripped, revoked as we lay there singing... |
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| 1996. Iowa City, IA |
| How did this poem really end? |