By Patrick Kurth
BATHTUB VENUS
the past is running out with the bath water
lemon skins and laurels surf the pipeline copper
you stand on the shore conceded by this sea
garland round with rosemary
lustrous as our lady, mother of pearl
day daubs your breasts with sun-wrung oil
and the yolk-drop gaze of angels passing by
dawn hunts the dark as stars keep vigil
jag of want heat round pearls of sand
and pink your mantle with petals of dew
come, let the zephyr kiss your collar dry
come, feel your sheets cool with whispers
