Wallace Stevens in the Bedroom

He talks of snowflakes

I listen, I imagine heat

He tells me

This is how you do it in bed,

Writing

And I think why?

Must man fight

To ensure this level of mastery

Sometimes writing inches along

It needs distance after the act

He’s got himself a way into snow

To craft his snow man

Each flurry unsentimental

An alumnus of poetic anatomy

Self knowledgeable, not contradictory

Turning to him I speak

How can we renegotiate?

This space, these sheets?

We don’t he says

But you just claimed

Vive l’imagerie!

Unlike non-aqueous-Stevens

Both pens sex

Both pens risk

Both contradict

This is how we do it in bed,

Writing

I get an ice-cold pfft,

Pure fantasy!

Then again, I unpack heat

An indissoluble heat

A hystérie misérable

Right in the middle of

Rearranging

The sheets

Clburdett, 2024 Revision