Circe In Manhattan

High on the penthouse roof,

she makes her twilight perch
inhaling the cool air
and jazz of voices
that slow the city down.
Seductive talk and cocktails
catch her interest. The most
provocative prompts her to choose
a couple and  a spell to cast.
Pigeon quill, bottle glass and verdigris
peelings will be used
for the break-up. All green. All reflective
of her envy.

Boredom has settled in, inflaming

the marrow and making her breath,
her blood hot for a lover.
She smoothes her long hair
and dress. Her finger nails
white stars against the black chiffon,
a fleeting sign in the zodiac, siren
who hums and hypnotizes
her prey. Afterwards, he falls
a thousand stories down
into madness. She lights
a stick of incense and summons
her Siamese to bathe its tongue
in a bowl of cream.