Two bubble-headed lovers <br />joined by a spring <br />clasp each other on my desk. <br />He has his arms propped up <br />& his legs together. <br />She has her legs spread wide <br />& her arms crossed coolly under her head. <br /> <br />If I squeeze their Lucite legs, <br />he seems to pump against her thighs, <br />(though he has no penis) <br />& she, in her transparent plastic passion, <br />coldly receives him <br />(though she has no cunt). <br /> <br />It is only a toy, <br />a silly Lucite gewgaw, <br />a glorified paperclip <br />bought at a glorified <br />paperclip store. <br /> <br />But he has an air bubble <br />where his heart should be <br />& she a larger one <br />where her womb would be, <br />& no matter how many poems <br />I clasp between their empty heads <br />their lovemaking will never change <br />until the plastic melts, <br />or they both are <br /> <br />broken.<br /><br />Erica Jong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-bubble-headed-lovers/
