Wednesday, May 6, 2009


—for Ted Hughes

I’m one of—those gigolos
Who manage—their infidelity
With a polished smile—and a stone heart
I haven’t forgotten—my cravings
Every grasp is—still alive in me
Even these walls—remember me
These ceilings—saturated with jizz
Every room and passage—in this dump
Bursting to shout—my secret
They accuse me—of being a gigolo
The air is quivering—with Feminist scorn
They’re just jealous tho—I’m so sexy
The minute I step—through the door
You can hear all the women—sigh & die

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