Poem by Stephanie Ellis Schlaifer

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FROM THE MINISTER OF THE CABINET OF DESIRE

At the exhibition of American Places
your gaze alights

on the seascape
in a landscape
of landscapes

You move as a ship moves
in a moving picture

Schoonering
or with lapping oars

Mooring you catch
a whiff of fresh skin
over the oils You want
to see the body
you smell the soap coming off of

Your eye drifts
toward the couple, drifting
toward the painting
of the boats

He is fancier than a ballroom

She in her sea foam shift
in her beige, beige pumps—

I bet she has no scent at all

I bet she is a skiff of salt

I bet he moves inside her tenderly

I bet she tenses tenderly at the thought

I bet she tenses tenderly deliberately

I bet they are filled with mooring for each other

There are so many other boats