Hot Tub

A tryst.

That ends

in a nightly dose.

A contradiction,

emptiness

refused by starlight,

the dark

enflamed with error.

Tell me again

what crime you are

so guilty of?

The hot tub,

26 Seconal—

the moon

like ejaculate.

Delicate.

Poor

Barlow,

you felt

so alone;

you were

the only queer.

January 1, 1951.

In the semantics of

your translation

you intend, in Náhuatl

a long while,

to abandon

your cadaver.

There.