Phillip Glass’s Arse

The pattern on her frock reminded me to order
A large cafe latte and a croissant
She said, "Stephen, you're looking older"
"I'll have a short black", I replied
Back in her room she offered me plunger coffee
I browsed through her rumble
"No milk, one sugar"
The light above her ring left us both aware
That probably we should have chosen drip filter
She set fire to the gas burner
It flickered out
"You'll have to settle for instant", she mumbled
I could smell her perfume still lingering in my bed
But up Phillip Glass's arse is where I keep my head
Phillip Glass's arse