Receiving a Solicitation for Membership in The Swingers Life Club)
de Milo didn’t have one, at least no pussy
its shadow in the marble, but Botticelli’s Venus,
we cannot see it for her sea-anemone hand,
doubt-an amber-furred dear mouth we would kiss
we enter the Arcadian plane of the painting.
assimilate cunts to our creed of beauty.
Morn held her thighs tight shut, and the dolls
up undressing had nothing much there, not even
beauties we must learn to worship now all
legs, splayed in bedspreaded motel beds,
snowflakes that burst forth are no two alike:
snapdragons, portal and tears
of hair, lips lurid as slices of salmon,
wisps more ticklish than skin, black brooms
could ride cackling through the spatter of stars,
a-stare like monocles tiny as dimes.