Steely Chest

Steely chest

She plays them close to her chest

meat marionettes meet real goats

a recycling of her cuffs

chipped tooth and torn shirt

iron travelers with lips of steel

a different body every week

its construction cunning, devious

and never the one

that I remember from

the sun-drenched patio.

Three suns rising

that you appreciate in so many spectra

I hate your electric nerves

but from here

there is no going home

by the time I arrived

Virginia Beach would have become

as alien as you.

The end

Published in Star*line, December, 2007