The equity is
twitterpated,
I am too.
Which, in a weakness
returned to
what was easy,
adolescent fantasy.
Like Schiele
done up with full shading.
It was not funny how
you seemed as though
from your head
to the bottom of your spine
had been stretched out!
Luminosity of the
flesh, yes. Firm
nipples that seemed
inflated, young
boxer face; small features
and deep set eyes
and big ear lobes.
You had a smooth face
and eyes that were like
spheres of water, not
connected to you necessarily,
taking everything in and
putting it somewhere.
Remember your Marfan
Syndrome? And what it meant
to the Frank Herbert people?
That the spice floes
were growing thinner
meant something.
That the huffing of tea breath
was growing thinner,
though the mounds were growing
met our expectations.
Oh God! the whole kitchen
is a mess of pans boiling over,
an old gilt sacle,
sheaves of papyrus,
and the things for a gimlet.
