Play Dante For Me

Desire to place them in a dollhouse
name them Dante and BeaBea
or make finger puppets
He could climb the little stairs to her
She’d swing on a pendulum
Tinkerbell without a wand.
She could rest in a matchbox
doll coffin
poems could be voodoo
make an end of her
except you and I know
She hisses,
who would wind up screwed—
Get the fuck away from
She’s a 17 year old beauty queen
the poet entrances herself
like this and day after day
from Oceanside High
the voodoo doll hair the
and no one
desire to cut a lock and bury it
touches her man
freeze the lovers into strawberry
or play Canto Five
spin them on a top
then pack her away
just him for awhile
on his own    a pilgrim
in the bedroom
my dark wood
which could be a kind of heaven
if only little Paolo could disentangle himself
from her silk if only
he would        wake up from her