standing here in my new dress,
with sky-high heels
and calves of steel.
Do you think I’m
pretty?
Do you think my smile
could light up the night-
milky pearls and evil bite-
do you think that
you are the
reason?
Would you like a drink?
A stiff one won’t make you
think
about how much you’re spending
on my wily
womanly ways.
Just sit back, relax,
I’m here to serve you
(at least for awhile
While the bottles empty and
I purge your wallet
of its inky
filth).
1 comment:
Dear Little Girl I Used to Carry Around on My Shoulders,
What in the name Sun Drenched Dementia have you been up to? Poetry? Suggestive poetry? Honey, I got to tell you that talking about your calves and four-inch heels ain't exactly Leaves of Grass. And what's this reference to cash being .... what was it?....."inky filth"? Is that anyway to talk about something so near and dear to your heart? No inky filth -- no stilleto heels.
But I have to admit you do write well. This isn't the kind of thing you write at work is it? Because in Montana writing like this is found in the Quasi-Erotic section at the library. Its where boys 10 to 13 go to become Quasi-Erotic before turning 14 and fully Erotic. It is good that you are teaching them the connection between Erotic and Inky Filth. It keeps them motivated while they are doing lawns in the summer. Saving for college. Yeah. Right.
Stay Classy San Diego!
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