POEM-The Woman

The Woman

Olympia, Les Demoiselles, de Kooning’s One

Represent less them but, in their looks, the man looks

With curious terror at handlers of the forms

That force her. I’m sorry. Brick quiet, quicker walk

—The spoken looks chasm us, hooded sights. To render:

Reduce, but—what resonates and means—surplus where

Nothing fits. Fleshstrips, swipegreen, slabbed capital grey,

Goatfoot, olympaic brow, adgirl snarl: she shakes

The frame. I threat, I sit. The bench is cold. I look

Everywhere else

thinking around things.