The Muse of Spleen

May your lovers bite you hard and deep,
tatoo you with musical staves.
May they play cold whore to your knave
and then like schoolgirls sleep.

May they laugh at your jokes, burn the toast,
accidentally swallow the host.

May your potent songs astound
with their seduction leitmotiv.
May the silken scarves be beautifully bound
around your tactical brief.

May the girls all play their girlish role,
rule shyly, then boldly relinquish control.

May they take in their tiny hands
your swelling reputation.
May I use my tiny hands
in a different celebration

accompanied by this sexual psalm.
May the truth collect like rain in our palms.

Copyright © 2003 Eva Salzman All rights reserved
from Bargain With The Watchman
Oxford University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission