my analyst peered at me and said – Vulcan?
and I said – fine pots and pans with non-stick teflon
then she said – Apollo?
and I said – a new middlerange car
she said – Arachne?
I said – genuine Dior imitations
and she said – Abraxas!
and she kissed my mouth and bit my heart
and said – Moloch!
and I said – Parklawn Memorial Gardens.
1975, Port of Call and other poems.