Diane Corson, Nude Study: Three Positions
What Alyssa Told Sean The First Time She Seduced Him
Take the Ninja helm from your shelf of prior lives and bring it to my bed
I’ll put on the mask of the goddess and let you caress my mythic folds
If you Hitler my Poland, I’ll Boadicea your cocksure arrogant Rome
Puddle the Louvre between my thighs with your papaya-rife swamp Picasso
Crumple my Sylvia Plath paperclips with your Jack Kerouac pliers
If you basaltic flow my canyon, I’ll avalanche this Tufa tower
Fill the emptiness of my lonely drawer with your Blue Chip Trading Stamps
Ride my Matterhorn body with your misplaced E tickets of lost wonder
If you dance rainfall on my bleak stone, I’ll release the ransomed springtime
Rouse the pearls in my sea caves with the iron of your Poseidon trident
Return the scattered shards of my identity to this now with your kiss
If you windsock my whirlwind, I’ll forever conduit your lust flashfloods
_____________________________
Chuck Von Nordheim
Review by Jared Pearce
I really like the movement of the images in the lines in this poem. I was wondering (and I’m not going to look it up) if the Matterhorn would actually take an A ticket, or if the whole ticket system was gone by the time the Matterhorn was built? Then again, that’s probably less important than allowing the E to stand for the strength of our young imaginations.