So, no superimpositions. Compromise.
They don’t like my voices. Want me
chaste-I’d.
Word minarets stumps.
Calibanned to earth
as if hell a sunset of intermediaries.

Oh, this I gotta see.
OK. I shan’t use your male thing.
Way of unzip, full, flick, carry
                                                         on
conversation, eyes politicking downright
downleft
deals done’a them size comparisons
drip
more chat more backchat more back
drip done in up. It’ll be a simple
trouser silhouette, de-constructed grey flannel Armani
                    (remember smokin’ guns
                    (they’re no cheroots
                    (they want you’re your
                    (metamountainphors
                    (termazapammed bumps
                    (they can roller
                    (their monocyclers over) Look!
No hands!
                    (We’re real circus artists here. We
                    (don’t touch ourselves.
                    (Let’s ‘av a clear run at ‘er!


2

You’re a swank.
In your fantasies I have 21 pairs of thigh-high boots.
,breakfast ,lunch ,tea
(ah English flippery!)

Dinner we talk. Fall
                    (Winter, firelight,
                    (high Spring, fireflies
                    (garter belts for every mood
                    (scones, cream, your breath neon
                    (in my velvet gypsum belly pawn
                    (silk filigree my reason
                    (inanities mumbled
                    (lovedust crumbling moon
                    (unenfeebled fallow
                    (ravines my veins
                    (lovesnot
                    (circles
                    (sea zone my cleft King to sleep

See they’re lost now.

3

So, no superimpositions. Compromise.
I take your note.
Make you spelt right. Want me
properly tidied.
Corby creased.

Not one blemish of an Id response.
Not one bleedin’ jot.

4

Dot.



©2006 by AnnMarie Eldon