The Book of Repulsive Women/From Fifth Avenue Up

Someday beneath some hard Capricious star— Spreading its light a little Over far, We'll know you for the woman That you are.

For Though one took you, hurled you Out of space, With your legs half strangled In your lace, You'd lip the world to madness On your face.

We'd see your body in the grass With cool pale eyes. We'd strain to touch those lang'rous Length of thighs; And hear your short sharp modern Babylonic cries.

It wouldn't go. We'd feel you Coil in fear Leaning across the fertile Fields to leer As you urged some bitter secret Through the ear.

We see your arms grow humid In the heat; We see your damp chemise lie Pulsing in the beat Of the over-hearts left oozing At your feet.

See you sagging down with bulging Hair to sip, The dappled damp from some vague Under lip. Your soft saliva, loosed With orgy, drip.

Once we'd not have called this Woman you— When leaning above your mother's Spleen you drew Your mouth across her breast as Trick musicians do.

Plunging grandly out to fall Upon your face. Naked-female-baby In grimace. With your belly bulging stately Into space.