Filling her compact & delicious body <br />with chicken páprika, she glanced at me <br />twice. <br />Fainting with interest, I hungered back <br />and only the fact of her husband & four other people <br />kept me from springing on her <br /> <br />or falling at her little feet and crying <br />'You are the hottest one for years of night <br />Henry's dazed eyes <br />have enjoyed, Brilliance.' I advanced upon <br />(despairing) my spumoni.—Sir Bones: is stuffed, <br />de world, wif feeding girls. <br /> <br />—Black hair, complexion Latin, jewelled eyes <br />downcast ... The slob beside her feasts ... What wonders is <br />she sitting on, over there? <br />The restaurant buzzes. She might as well be on Mars. <br />Where did it all go wrong? There ought to be a law against Henry. <br />—Mr. Bones: there is.<br /><br />John Berryman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-song-4-filling-her-compact-amp-delicious-b/
