Lust bitten to pink the cigarette
filter—proceed, I pray you, as pink cigarette
smoke, and savor soft comforts curdled
to pile, dressed with a fluff that boldly
has crept from mattress-holes.
This desired man, he stands impelled.—
Desires have urged him to tread the
files, the discards, filings smirched
by candle fumes, and unpeeled carrots
dropped from the table-end, gathering
discard hairs.
Watch his two yellow legs
as they stalk the ruin.
-2005
