the artist's model (1979)

once, as a child,
you visited Atlanta.
there was a black porter
in the windowless hall
of the neon hotel
unlocking doors.

one churchless evening
you & your mother walked by a window
full of vases made in the shape of
lovely women.
you would not stiffen, but turned
turned and fiercely stared
with your adventuress eyes.
that evening you imitated a woman
in a black dress.
the grownups were amused.

years later you understood
with childhood hair you understood
the Monday morning roll of bills,
the black man unlocking doors.
with hair the color of a childhood sweetheart's
and fierce, fierce eyes you

were made into a vase the shape
of lovely, lovely women.