Thursday, July 12, 2012



—for Sylvia Plath

Pimp noir, I trick rather well—
I’m your typical lounge lizard, my dear
Cruising nightly with nothing to hide
It’s best we meet in a cul-de-sac tho

Gigolos are maniacal caricatures—
Doomed by their own narcissistic
Obsessions, afflicted with unstable
Notions of self & delusory aspirations

My palace of fine red velvet
My condo full of endless mirrors with
An attic full of aging portraits while
Below I’m completely self-contained

No photographs of my lovers—
No rings in my ears, no camp
Professional gigolos are tres serious 
When Mr. Green talks, we listen intently 

Rich sugar daddies gulp at my bulk—
Here I am in my swank tuxedo
Sipping martinis and acting bored
Slippery and carnivorous as a shark

I’m a rather chic seedy Narcissus—
A malevolent Pepé Le Pew who poses
Like a vain exceptionally proud peacock
Unlike the self-effacing Miss Prufrock

I distance myself from lovers—
And emotional attachments to anybody
I’m like a self-sustaining aloof magnolia
Draped with decadent Spanish Moss

I’m rather happy alone here in my—
Seductively baroque kitschy bordello
Adjusting to my latest sagging face lift
With blasphemous aging panache

Sexuality is a threatening presence—
I avoid bright sharp claws of older men
Avoiding their lips and touch if I possibly
Can avoid their ubiquitous tacky menace

Increasingly crass and hyperbolic—
About my violent power over men
Whose jellyfish-lips sting me
They plead for my aphrodisiac squid

And there is no end, no end to it—
Gigolos never grow old, they end up
Shrieking to themselves alone at night
Glittering away in some Fontainebleau 

Some large dumpy royal châteaux—
Gratified by all the years of pimping
Reclusive by some lavishly decorated
Pool done in the mannerist style

Ceaselessly admiring themselves—
In their palatial, disreputable bordellos
Full of superficiality & deadly narcissism
Tenderly leaning & gazing at themselves

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