Agnes in Pantoum

When you picture her she is sitting at the edge of a metal chair
Legs crossed, ankles looped, a lady-like child
In the sight of her fatherly-lover, yellow bangs fall into her face, and
She absentmindedly scratches a mole on her shoulder.

Legs crossed, ankles looped, a lady-like child
She tries to explain herself, hushed level intercourses
She absentmindedly scratches a mole on her shoulder.
Her hair is gossamer, neck-length, she complains to me that it will not grow,

She tries to explain herself, hushed level intercourses
I imagine them alone together in the darkness
Her hair is gossamer, neck-length, she complains to me that it will not grow,
He is not the type to stroke it; an artificial lover, he'll fuck you without touching you.

I imagine them alone together in the darkness
Four legs thickly together. Pulling plastic cocks across the enamel of her teeth
He is not the type to stroke it; an artificial lover, he'll fuck you without touching you.
I imagine her Polish laughter, how his eyes always dart away.

Four legs thickly together. Pulling plastic cocks across the enamel of her teeth
In the sight of her fatherly-lover, yellow bangs fall into her face, and
I imagine her Polish laughter, how his eyes always dart away.
When you picture her she is sitting at the edge of a metal chair.