At the strip club in Lincoln, Nebraska, she said, "I'm the Princess of Shalimar." Doubtless, I thought, at a loss for words but not images, the air moist but without the promise of a rain. She's not bending pinkly like a pretzel but a body. At this age, my first bona fide royalty. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE CRYSTAL GAZER by SARA TEASDALE THOMAS HOOD by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE SUNDEW by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE SINCE THOU ART GONE by HENRY VAUGHAN |