Of the Men


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Of the men who adorn her nightstand
Some glitter, woozy in the dying neon lights
Like actors patterned onto a cheap television screen
Framed with cigarettes, tainted black-and-white
They are men from all walks of life

Some tall and pointed, thickening
With chest hair matted, double chins
Some ticklish, smiling, flirting, lying
Some whispering the words she wants to hear
Some role-playing life into a dream
A casino, chips and the reigning queen
On silver screens she wondered how
These things could turn out quite so hot

Of the men who fill her books with words
Nobody knows how many roost
In arcane, crazy wild parlor stories
She narrates to girlfriends when the party buries

Some perfect gentlemen, they open
Doors and ask her to be the judge
In random matters requiring arbitration
Some beasts with devilish horns of fire
And unconditional loathsome desire
Some taken up for no good reason
But capricious turns between love and treason
The jars are full of countless delights
Lining up behind her wall untouched
They hold the men she taught to cower
Forever entrapping them for her
Saying, ‘oh all is fair in love and war’

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