Enter Vanessa Chamberlain
(Vanessa Chamberlain was a central character in the long-running soap opera The Guiding Light in the 70's and 80's. At least that's how I remember her. I watched the show often during extended periods of unemployment)
Burying the phone in black hair,
strokes her bountiful bottom lip
with the red tip of her bare ringfinger.
She is on the line to the college.
When her victim answers she says "Hello there.
This is Vanessa Chamberlain speaking.
That's right, I said I'd call."
Note well the white
crinoline petticoat bursting like bush
out of the black blazer she wears:
vaguest hit of a nun.
Bask in the beautiful pallor of her face!
Vanessa Chamberlain! Joan of Arc!
John of the Cross... Dear God,
for Christmas I would like to see
enter my room one day,
in spiked heels and nothing else,
her body the color of amber and immolations,
the sunlight sizzling around her,
a bottle of very bad bourbon
in her delicate hand.
She will kiss me once and pull away.
Perhaps she will say "I have to run."
Perhaps she will want to meet me later.
Oh, cyclopean Father of twisted sex,
of all dreams dear to me this is dearest:
to hang around in a velvet bar
far past the appointed hour,
checking my watch,
as the bartender grows circumspect.
Woefully I will wonder what went wrong,
one of millions waiting today,
for her hushed silken entrance.