At a recent social gathering
The hostess sat me across
An empty lounge chair
Of which there were two more
Of the same and as we began
Debating subliminal advertising
On which I needed help
I wonder if she consciously
Offered me the vacant chair
As a suggestive ritual entrance
Into some intimate séance
Because as we were conversing
Of Black Magic & Voodoo dolls
Made in her likeness
I sat through unperturbed
Listening to her advising me
On how to prick her plaything
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem