The edema I spot is mutual,
erect on my upper left quadrant.
Yet it haunts me and taunts them, lucidly
waving its skin like a whore--
its flesh sweeping and decanting incessant pools of glossolalia:
Less-s-s-s-s, small-s-sm-small, small-er!

the adulterous letter, my decrepit badge,
(rewarded by Hitler; the yellow star).

Flagged for greed, implicit of weakness;
the best consequence is that the women gossip
over tea. But not with me, and not with their boys.