Chance Chambers
HUNGRY
If I had money for but one meal
I would give it to a dancer who told me her name
Who would push her bosom into my face
Smiling; it's her job
I would taste her shoulders
Salty flesh canvas
With a smell too sweet
Fragrance masking
Thighs taut, straddling, meeting
Buttocks defined by a thousand nights
Waist canopy draping
A gargoyle at the door
Christmas light illuminated mirror
Reflecting her spine to nape
Where my fingers learn
Where my lips follow
She is beautiful, certain
Doing her job; I do mine
But the silvery window behind shows more
Inside
A crib, cluttered floors
Sleepful days, fire escape, busy alley
A billion other fools salivating beneath her
Eyes with weary sills
Suddenly she is on me like a haunted afghan
So my tongue goes up, up, in
And she tastes like a Ferris wheel
Fresh as a county fair
My hand behind, I press
Deeper I taste
So many nights, only one taste
I watch her eyes shut tight
Tight as the door to the box where she lives
Which now rattles with intrusion
My mouth moves away
Still tasting her
That is how it goes
Never finished, never ending
Money spent, nothing to show for it
For it is good to always be a little hungry
BOB CRANE
Smooth, so smooth
Played the Nazis like marionettes
Swinging in the stalag
Seemed comfortable
Biding time with a freulein
Prisoners with wine
Then one morning
Not so swinging in a ditch
I know nothing
Lips pursed, safe
Monocles turned from the scene
Disapproving whispers
No one escapes from 13
STILL
To traverse the night
Like an exacto knife
Carving this very second
Pulling it from its frame
To sprinkle on it
That which fills my ears
The electric clink of silver on teeth
The boiling, brimming murmur between
Pulling it like a flag in mist
Through the aroma clouds
Stinging, clinging molecules
Of beer and ash
Dipping it into this glass
Soaking this slice with the burn
That rolls down my throat, molasses-like
Flesh-numbing, happy
Finally framing it with the walls
The corners of this stinking place
So it would never powder in palms
Clenched, losing
Then I would have you
Chance Chambers
© 1996
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