BETWEEN DRAGS.

[dadio]

Between drags
on the cigarette
she muses on

the Rothko print
on Scalpon’s wall.
It took her by surprise

hanging there
beside the front door
almost from ceiling to floor.

The smoke touches her throat
fills her lungs.
Satisfaction sits

on her tongue
like Scalpon easing himself
between her thighs.

The Rothko print
fed her eyes and mind.
She exhales and thinks on

Scalpon’s secondary sex
and watches the smoke rise
as once from the chimneys

of those camps of which
Grandmother often spoke.
She inhales again

picturing in her mind’s eye
the Rothko print
trying to forget Scalpon’s

weird way of making love
upon the table
in the hall

while she studied
the Rothko
hanging on the wall.