Dating the Dick Heads

One head takes me down to venice for foreign films
with hot reputations & a cutrate price. we suck
natural popcorn in the dark, i let him crowd me
into his armpit, i let him touch me
so he can feel lucky.

Another head takes me across town to restaurants in hollywood
& orders stuffed chicken legs & lemonade made
with artificial sweetener. the service
of the third world servants pleases him,
they lift the legs with tongs & lay them on my plate
‘look sir,’ they say, ‘she’s smiling already.’

They call me, those heads, they feel me out, they pick up
the check & woosh open the door from the restaurant,
the door to the car, they say they don’t wanna
play games, they wanna be real, honesty
makes the head harder
i uncross my legs & put my hands on my knees.

What woman don’t look good in restaurant lighting
i paid good money for jafra foundation white
stick so i don’t look so old
my eyelashes glitter with technology & advanced
yoga technique hold the sags back.

He is wearing shaving lotion squeezed
from the testicles of beavers.
i am wearing robes that close
at the neck keep my shape
a mystery.

Dessert is ordered & we talk;
my ex-old man, his current old lady
boys & girls at war & how much of a feminist are you
examples of bitches he has known
you’re over thirty & should probably think marriage
putting the hump back into a doggish throw down
& how not to intimidate men
with stories of lesbian love
race relations: black
dick head asks if I prefer white
white dick head asks for the truth: is black dick head
bigger?
I am sweet i guarantee
& all i want is dinner