NORMAN MAILER

In the late stage
of venture
and crony capitalism
you advertised for yourself
as you imagined life
a punch drunk
and Judy T.V. show
with you fighting away
in a match
with an invisible opponent
in a high rent
three ring circus maximus
and you disguised
as a hefty dark Spartacus
or hiding from Jesus
as a galley slave
playing Ben Hur
were it not for the trailer
in your self promotion
on T.V. shows advertising
after shave lotion,
you would have lost
out in the last round,
but having found your soul
in the Deer Park
you become lost
in blaring headlights
headlines and highlights
for American success
as a sweet cheating succubus
threw women under the bus
in a different form of life
and loveless deceit,
discussing with me
the plays on words
on T.S. Eliot's
"The Cocktail Party"
after your lecture
on your own adventures,
"If you have a fear
of men or women
and you are fighting it,
kid, just get rid of it
give them a jib or jab
on the concrete slab"
"If you have a fear of heights
let's go on the roof together
and face your fear,
and he proceeded
up the stairs
with all the adolescent
green motion he could elicit,
I shutting myself in the back
of the lecture hall,
having about heard it all.