Clarissa in Two Parts

I

Darling Clarissa went down before the fall
(to sympathize with madness)
to visit me in Florida.
She loved the turning of the leaves,
Autumn's trees and fits of color.
I cared not a wit for this
or that, or any of the others--
I was in it purely for the money,
and that moment of sexual attraction.

She hadn't had enough of me;
I could see it in her lips as she ate the chocolate.
I was full of silence and of froth--
The perfect man for every moment.
Pack your bags and fly away,
Or, upon seeing my reflection,
Stay until I've eaten you astray--
Driven you across the plains of itching madness--
Through the shivering gates of fading twilight--
Past the Arch Watchman,
And into tabletop dust,
Where you shall take your place in my collection.

II

To the north, Clarissa found herself drawn;
She yearned to return to seasons,
And the crisp air of winter.
In mid-July she cleared off the bedside table,
Strolled outside and faded off in the bustle of the Eastern Seaboard.

I kept two pints of her blood,
And one of her fingers--
She had insisted.

Imagine her on streets stroked by soot
And seething throngs, drifting
Disordered across broken blacktop,
Screaming songs distorted by ambulances and car horns.
Taxi drivers billowing smokey curses
Out of cracked windows,
Three legged dogs digging through dumpsters,
One eyed guppies swimming circles in gutters,
Thieving time gulping down men of lost business,
As day by day the pendulum's ball crushes trashed eyes
And paralyzes dreams.