No one was there
(apart, that is, from the film crew),
when Kane collapsed,
dropping the snowstorm paperweight globe
to smash like broken dreams,
murmuring the gnomic word
for us to hear.
And how did anyone know
(for instance, Gore Vidal)
that this was William Randolph Hearst's pet name
for the clitoris of his mistress, Marion Davies?
I am no Kane,
no Hearst,
and I cannot have a pet name
for what I can only guess at.
But I shall publish to the world
my love that has a name,
reserving for your own ears
the secret title that only lovers know.
13/05/08, 8.07am
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