A latex slip, ribbed for her pleasure, is pregnant
with half-babies vainly swimming
in an open-ended tunnel capped with a reservoir tip.
Her intimates, intermingling with his pink
Polo shirt, lie curled up in a ball,
freshly unfurled from her young frame.
Tendrils, chiseled in stone-colored smoke
borne from a Camel Light, swirl in the dusky
incandescence before fading from sight.
Coltrane, on wax, carves a space in sound with his sax;
“Giant Steps” walks the room and scores the scene
until “A Love Supreme” conquers all.