Praxitella, ample fella, dynamist
Kissed by your own imagination
Kissed as a mistress
Kissed by your monumental sculptor
Beyond existence, enlisted
All fingers and fisted
Your picture is a writer
Your writer is a picture
No wonder that you missed her
Kissed her like a sister
Realism on society’s cubist blister
But the lines they would not
And could not go away
The lipstick, the saddened eyes
The emphasised thighs and steely wrists
Enlisted gestures
And so so suddenly to be kissed
How much you must have missed her
Hair cropped and shaped
From some pyramid picture
No joy portrayed
Whoever the Lear that kissed her
Tapping of the finger
Splinter in the Wyndham
My he almost missed her
Looking for her sister
Now you sit
Between the Dance Club
And Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem
Praxitella
Were you invaded, persuaded
Even confiscated
On Jacob Kramer’s Day
‘The Day of Atonement’
