Posted on January 16, 2012
On the blind channel, Jane Russell’s wrists strain the leather straps, Her bosoms in her filmic Howard-Hughes-created bra, Contorted like wadded socks in the wash. The narrator says, “She turns from Billy in disgust.”
Category: PoemsTags: Eros, Fay Wray, Jane Russell, King Kong, life, love, poems, poetry, Psyche, sex, The Outlaw, writing
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