My Village apartment
With fireplace and leather wing chair,
Formica table, closet-kitchen,
Bookcase boards balanced on bricks,
Abstractions in swirling oils,
Queen bed set sideways
Against West wall, headboard
A long, low dresser
Doubled as a coffee-table.
A fifth-floor Shangri-La, accessed
By elevator, a local luxury, in which
My wife stooped, lips around my cock,
Ascending, giddy with danger
But the bed that had supported
Such frequent coition
That she finally cried out,
"All you want to do is fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Was not the same one on which
Years later, she said,
"I need to find a young stud who can screw me
As much as I want."