At David Kell's Party, Professor Ball Notices Me

Big in everything but heart; almost
endearing for the smile
that plays upon your lips tonight,
index finger circling 
your cocktail’s salted rim; 
mind smeared with drink;
shirttail untucked, a rumpled 
banner dangling, finger-crooked, 
down your leg; only the tips
of your loafers poking,
penis-stiff, from the folds
of your baggy pant hems.

When from the depths of your lop-
sided smile, you look up at me,
bleary-eyed through the thick lenses
of your glasses, and bemusedly
discover this new planet
swimming into your ken,
let me warn you that, 
this wrist you lift to smell,
lilac-like and pretty,
will pulse like an artery
into your clumsy hands;
you will not be able to catch
or hold me, and were you foolish
enough to try to make love to me,
you will not get away;
you will not be able
to run fast or far enough,
for, surely, I will follow
you the rest of your days,
down alleyways; long after our affair
is over; like death in a helmet
as, desperate only to flee,
you look over your shoulder and fall.