Crab Feed

Narrow hips let me slip
through tight aisles, tongs aloft
crab held high in my wooden bucket
Another claw? Another half body?
91 Chinese millionaires waving their chopsticks
and shouting at each other over newspapered tables
greased with mayonnaise and coleslaw, cheeks reddening
with each new glow of McCallum 15. Now we're on 
the 12, and still pouring the 75th Chardonnay, 
and xie xie, baby, Happy New Year
the cameras are out and the volume increasing-- 
it seems to be doing the trick

later in the bath
in the quiet room
I will sup
steam, and laugh
softly,
surrounded by your love
the way the warm water
covers my chest.