Venus
of Willendorf
You seemed a
little distant
Cool and aloof on
the slide
Perhaps I was projecting
In the warm dark
cocoon
Of Lecture Hall B
Undergraduate
umbilical coiled
Around my neck,
pupils draining
Light in
clockwise vortex
Until it dawned
on me
It was only the
sound of fan
Racket from the Kodak
Modal 4600
A yearning carousel
eager
To please on
stiff little legs nosing
Toward the screen
Where you
teetered on impossible
Feet fighting
gravity
In a losing
battle I found
Touching, breasts
No one could
ignore
A chassis built
As the bluesman
said
For comfort not
for speed.
I hear Willendorf
Is nice this time
of year
Hint of fertility
in the alpine air
Your crazy braids
beckoning
Like braille to a
blind man.
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