I AM THE SEXY MUSEUM
No more slow walking the sandstone edifice
with marble floors that exhaust the feet.
Within me, scurry from hall to hall.
Who needs portraits of people bored past recognition?
Have you ever sat for a portrait? Why galleries full
of empty landscapes, of war heroes on horses,
when men think about sex nineteen times a day, women 10?
I don’t think of war heroes on horses ten times a day
unless we’re talking sex with war heroes. I never liked horses.
Bring me airbrushing and alabaster, mastery of aperture,
harlequins in flagrante, every kind of specific exposure,
art from top and bottom p.o.v., a hall of mirrors –
on ceiling, on headboard, at foot of bed. Cubists
are welcome, “Penetration of Guitar in Blue,”
Bosch is invited, and any pointillist
who can replicate a delicate, hectic touch.
Pollock clearly got it, kept his juices flowing.
Enter a salon for frottage, the vigorous rubbing
both with pencil on paper covering leaf or coin,
and of stranger by creepy person in subway car.
The special traveling photo exhibit features
couplings by the light under the door, a soul
two points of brightness. Enjoy my sculpture garden
featuring Brancusi’s sex toys, Noguchi’s marital aids,
the loggia of fellatio, the balcony of breasts and butts,
the world’s first anililagnia gallery, containing, barely,
art inspired by the desire for older women.
Who doesn’t prefer
the pulsing life
to the still one?
Tina Kelley’s third poetry collection, Abloom and Awry, came out from CavanKerry Press in April, joining Precise and The Gospel of Galore. Her new chapbook, Ardor, won the Jacar Press chapbook competition. A former New York Times reporter, she co-authored Almost Home: Helping Kids Move from Homelessness to Hope.