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Author's note: This poem was written as a collaboration with four other students in our poetry class at San Jose State College.

Eros my classmates

Like a long-legged lady, whose lips are red and full; her stone-sculpted face stares back at me with watery eyes through my goldfish bowl... The lace-fine greenery gently graces her form as small fish slowly nibble at her breasts and an overgrown snail crawls down her back... My mind, with the snail, drifts slowly along her flesh, and I long for one soft and sweet caress-- It pains my inward sense that snails are slimy and fish are scaly-- And yet they are the seducers while I must look on with watery eyes, through my goldfish bowl... February 10, 1972

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Last updated: Saturday, 03-Jan-2015 18:12:24 PST