Ed Dorn

So there you are. She is
as ripe and bursting as that
biblical pomegranate.
She bleeds spore in her
undetachable black pants
and, not to make it seem too good
or even too remote
or too unlikely to near
She has that
kind of generous smile
offset by a daring and hostile look
again, I must insist, her hair
has black, the color of hostile sex
the lightest people, for all
their cold beauty
are a losing game