The Pope's Penis
It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate
clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver seaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat--and at night
while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.
--Sharon Olds
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment