Categories
Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

glamour gal

i have the legs
of an angry ballerina
battleship hips
and stevedore arms

i laugh too loudly
but often cover my mouth
to hold the ecstasy inside me

i punched your uncle who was in the navy
at your christmas party

i spike my orange juice
with bourbon and honey

i’ve been known
to leave the house
wearing two different pumps

perhaps only one eye
of makeup done

vertigo
makes it so
i sometimes get dizzy when i’m driving
or wearing heels
and fall down
let us hope it’s a day
i have no panties on

i’m a poet
so i sit around
in the orange gloam
of after dinner evening
with other writers
coffee mugs in hand
discussing why it is
we haven’t slept
in years

and what it means when your piss smells
like a fresh roasted tanzanian nigerian blend

i can’t be anywhere on time
there exists a curve in my very existence
but i’m from the south
i do everything slowly
and with great deliberation

i masturbated in the tub once
and nearly drowned

such the glamour gal

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