For as long as it lasts

He is too attractive for my well-jaded old blood
So I have to do a quick re-touch of his features:
First I add on thirty pounds or more, so his already rounded neck
Becomes positively armadillo-like, and then I imagine him
At the end of the month, frowning over the checkbook,
Probably because I have spent too much money again-
Perhaps his voice becomes nearly high pitched then
(that takes almost no imagining, by the way)
And next I imagine him in bed, spurting off like Niagara falls
(that doesn't take too much imagination either)
From the merest brush, of a touch
(while I am still doing warm up stretches),
Or else I imagine him asking me to do things
He doesn't dare to do to my person-
Women being the dank, bottomless wells
Of some men's fetid fantasies;
Better tie a board to his behind, and all that..

When I am finished, I can walk smugly on by
With no qualms. But it was all so beautiful-
For as long as it lasted.