Snarl of the female, swipe of her claw,
great-headed male returning, remounting...
tawny lions at body-play.
We watch them, stirred as we recall
how last we lioned shamelessly.
Lost to the pulse of their urgency
the lions are mating on TV.
She'd buy him the boat he made his wish for,
paying the loan over years from her salary,
but no, he doesn't want it, or rather
doesn't want her (the boat, could it come
freely afloat, is another matter).
She frightens him, her voice flushed with ardor.
They'll "get some counseling, work it out."
She phones him daily. He taps the air,
asks her please could this wait till later?
"See, I'm really busy now."
She wants him home, she misses him.
Pained, as cold as he's ever been,
he thinks, "Oh God! -- for God's sake, woman,
this is too awful -- grab up something...
please, please, cover yourself!"