Decency is a hopeless weapon.
Daily I fall from grace,
The big splash, whatever.
I should have been a starlet, I should
Have had chairs pulled out for me, swirling
Through my twenties in couture:
Marriage is the big lie. Oh sure, love crashed
Into my life, a dark tower of flight
And all its apparatuses, a walking
Muscle with a slick of black hair.
Soon it was legal. A large egg swelling
From the bowl of my hips.
I stared into his heart
And like the Emperor
I was too vain
I said, What a tower, what a prize!
Brute love that, bite by bite,
We indulged, so crazed we bit
Until we tasted the last of it
And stunned ourselves
With our emptiness
I should have gone to Hollywood.
If you’re going to be a trophy
You might as well go for gold.
Stop at nothing, you who are ambitious,
Or, as they say, narcissistic.
Let me tell you this:
There is nothing like a diamond
To cheer, nothing like a cocktail
To numb. Nothing but love to fear.
This appeared in the January/February 2016 issue.
