Are You Staten Island

That's the question that echoed
That odd old night
Many moons ago
Before your phone could take this picture
Of me and her
Standing in the grotto
(she had tried to find it three times earlier,
But to no avail)
The rock
The rock
Bits of yellow glass
Reflect
In my eyes.

Was I well?
I look thin
I feel thinner
What white wiggling worm
Eats away at what unmentionable part
Deep inside
Moist
Pink
On the monitor
In the exam room
I don't want to see it
But I must
Look at her
Know your enemy
And keep them close
Deep inside
Buried bowel blockage
And pain
Pain
Pain so sharp you close your eyes
And see your father naked
At the Y
Sacred home of naked men
Slap happy ass whacking
The towel
The towel
That covers up the apricot ass
And other things too
But not before
They are duly noted
Numbered
Cataloged
And filed away for future reference.

A future
Brown and fabulous
The almond-eyed future the color of cafe-au-lait and milk chocolate brownies
Seven layers
One for each chakra
Times two
Sending up my prayer
On my knees
In the grotto
And
Lying naked
In the Tiergarden
In simultaneous
Perversity