HOLD THAT POSE.

[dadio]

Hold that pose, he said, and she did and she
Was most surprised that he allowed her to
Keep her clothes on and not have to pose in
Some seductive or pornographic way

Or fashion as he often termed it, which
Reminded her of Mother’s words before
She had left home years ago, always keep
Your dignity Wally never let men

Take advantage of you because you’re a
Woman, but she had let that gem of words
Slip from her grasp after a few months in
The big city and besides a girl had

To find shelter and eat and drink and clothe
Herself and posing for an artist was
Better than getting shafted by all and
Sundry for sour sex, although he

Made love to her (she liked to call it that
It had a dignity in the sound) it
Was never at a price, never taken
For granted, not part of the modelling

Deal, just a form of exchange of passion,
A bringing together, a letting go.
Don’t move, Wally, he said, and she kept still,
Thinking of her mother arms up to her

Elbows in dirty water washing clothes,
Washing the dishes, waiting on her bone
Idle husband, having to put up with
His constant want of sex. Hold it just like

That, Wally, now hold it, he said, peering
At her, his hand gripping charcoal, sketching,
Focusing on her, and at that moment
She wanted him even more, wanted him

To hold her, to kiss her, and as she posed
Holding each limb and muscle and nerve in
Place, she saw a saviour in his firm
Features in his artist’s stern godlike face.