Kierkegaard’s Venus de Milo In Henry’s Words
Das ist clever title, Fraulein Dee.
When he saw her feet, in between the toes
it was sweet, Lobster Lucy
never got in the cage
even though the perfect storm raged
inside your brassiere at least twice,
the nipples hard, the suburbs
of where Henry was really going.
The hair of a mouse on a kiss.
Sometimes life is cold, sometimes it’s hot
fondled by polyglot,
day-light on the silver glue you leave
to hold us together Henry celebrated,
rolled over and went to sleep
in the appearance of Greek.
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