A lampshade painted with naked women

 

Their breasts and thighs are clear

masking a sixty watt bulb

and their fleshy tones seem real.

 

He stands at the entrance switching

the light on and off to watch

their shapes appear and disappear.

 

He is drunk. Very drunk. With each click

their shadows flicker like moving pictures,

in and out of focus, as if dressing, undressing.

 

She is stretched out on the leather sofa

her eyes closed; for her the light changes

from black to red to black to red, to black.

 

Steve Walter

GRAND PRIZE WINNER