I’ve set a trap for the Easter
bunny, made of carrot
flavored jelly beans

SHIRT: “The first hanging is also the last.”

BED: “Tiredness: the little death.”

PILLOW: “Once bitten, twice shy.”

Forget your diet. We both know why you came here.
You ogle my browned buns,
my prime-beefcake physique,
and you cannot stay away
because I’m built

Light spills into the hotel room
like ill-prepared lemonade from
the sky’s 5-cent stand, the one
all the hung-over grown-ups
have been trying to avoid.

Orlando blinks

It is here you’ll stay.
I have to donate you—
and don’t lay blame: you were the one
who became a relic, galumphed
into the dismal swamp of old desire.
You are a specimen, so don’t insist
you aren’t exotic.