Poetry Friday - The Collected Works of Susan Ramsey

From The Hiram Review, #63. As per usual, Blogger can't handle the line breaks. Apologies.

I'm In Love with Leonard Woolf

his rectitude,
his long, thin face, his notorious horniness,
the palsy that trills his soup spoon on his plate
when he's underdressed among trivial people.
Oh, I'm in love with Leonard, but he thinks
I'm frivolous, not inhaling politics,
exhaling social programs.
So I've taken Virginia to Myrtle Beach.
I'm careful with her sunblock, and I make her
wear a gauzy ankle length pareo,
skimming the thin straps of her narrow sandals.
I buy her pastel drinks with umbrellas in them.
The karaoke was her own idea, though:
"Bus Stop," by the Hollies.
We stay six days,
then Leonard comes to get her, stiff in tweeds.
I hope the heat reminds him of the island
whose province he administered and loved,
and left for love and still must carry with him.
Her bronze shoulder blades embrace him; her wide hat
and huge sunglasses don't reveal her eyes.
She radiates well-being. A single drop
of sweat gleams in the shadow of his temple.
I'm watching to see if he'll reveal his lips.
I'm hoping for a handshake, the chance to feel
the tremor stress magnifies, Ceylon
in the palm of his hand.