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JACKSON POLLOCK IN TEHRAN
Your macho cowboy swagger
Once seduced a Jewish heiress.
She was indignant later,
When, unable to get it up for her,
You pissed in her fireplace.
Dribbling on canvas
Became your substitute
For the kind of sex
You could only find
Passed out cold
On the urine-soaked pavements
Of New York's Bowery.
Now, in a museum storeroom,
In a country where they don't
Even have a name
For what probably ailed you,
I see the monstrous demi-gods
Grappling and - is it? - coupling
Just under the surface
Of one of your mysteriously
Potent liquefactions.
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