Carrie Leigh's Hugh Hefner Haikus

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Hef brings me flowerstiger lilies, ochre veineddowncast, sleek black cups

small shadows, are thepuckers in his pyjamaswhere his skin caves in

tired profligate, Isigh and pour the oil alongyour circular sheets

thinking of all thetimes, or women on this bedglossy old bunnies

I imagine theirbreasts, plate of fried eggs, a rowof tonsured monks' heads

his tongue slithers, gauntvoluptuary, uglyold man, my eyes close

when I roll his nameNer. along my tongue, like theline of cold test tubes

thin bottled semen,he wants to plant it, deeplyin my flat belly

Hugh junior, and, orCarietta, a child ispacked in dry blue ice

in silk pyjamasthey have an emperor's crestit is dark in there

but it's cold asthe green jacuzzi, bubblesare clouds on its face

I will crush the glasswith the fingers in his backand pile on my rings

and all the fur coatsand move down the circularstairs, bloated with gold

the flowers are avenus-flytrap, with red curlsflames and noxious breath

his betrayal givesme granite fists, girls scattermovie stars crumple

as I run away,from the gaudy prison cell,of tinsel and skin

I'll sue him and writeand build a home, in thedesert, on the sun

a sequined empress,a mirage -- in loungewear andharlequin glasses

© Crosbie Lynn