Issue 20, Autumn-Winter 1958-1959
Into the flaming peach she sped.
Passing through fastnesses of flesh
Down juicy channels. Her red head
Turned regularly, like a worm’s,
Hale in its element of fire.
She met the fruit on its own terms.
She tunneled into its embrace
And sank her teeth into its flesh
Utterly heedless of disgrace.
Then, when her seeking mouth had reached
Its cold, hard core, she smiled like fire,
So full, so fully self-impeached.