“The blissful counterstroke—a considerable new message.”
-Tom Wolfe
was easy leaning
deeper into his arms
her mind turning
to grey fuzz
a bright young
senator on his way
to the top unbuttons
the sequined blouse
struggling with the
eye-hooks
giving her time
to reflect a pregnant pause
where clouds pass
and through the sunshine
in his dark face
she sees herself
age ten riding her
bike at last her
scraped knee and
proud grin after the fall
age twenty staring
at her sling backs
tangled with his
trousers on the floor tasting
this politician’s lips
she thinks how
far she’s come