When the Handsome, Overgrown Samoan Boy Stands Again In Front of Your Glass-Walled Beach House in Venice & Begins To Masturbate, Never Taking His Eyes Off You…
by Alexis Rhone Fancher
Lock eyes with your accomplice.
This is what comes with glass houses.
He will touch himself through denim.
His dick will break free of his cut-off jeans,
Bigger than a cucumber.
Don’t worry! His eyes will never leave your face.
No one will guess your truth.
Reach under your skirt, pull aside your panties,
Touch your rock hard clit.
Watch your reflection in the window glass as the
Daylight shifts into dusk,
Look at his face as you make yourself come.
This is how you cope with loss.
* * * * *
©Alexis Rhone Fancher, 2015. First published in Scissors & Spackle, 2016.
Los Angeles poet, Alexis Rhone Fancher, is the author of How I Lost My Virginity to Michael
Cohen and other heart stab poems, (2014), State of Grace: The Joshua Elegies, (2015), and
Enter Here (forthcoming in 2017). She is published in Best American Poetry 2016, Rattle,
Slipstream, Rust+Moth, streetcake, Hobart, Cleaver, Public Pool, H_NGM_N, Fjords Review,
The MacGuffin, and elsewhere. Her photographs are published worldwide. A multiple Pushcart
Prize and Best of The Net nominee, Alexis is poetry editor of Cultural Weekly, where she also
publishes a monthly photo essay, “The Poet’s Eye,” about her on-going love affair with Los
Angeles. Find her at: www.alexisrhonefancher.com