Herculean

mother’s milk tickled from her nipple
onto my palm

from the cheap hotel window
Vesuvius came into view

below, the bar where I had picked her up
fell quietly into other buildings

her baby daughter cried in the other room
I watched her buttocks undulate

as she went to check on her
Vesuvius blew its top

I felt like Hercules in a dusty jar
the abandoned street stretched and broke

the sky’s sweaty brow touched mine
my biceps sweet around its throat