they sat mesmerized
in the holy sanctuary
of a bombed out church
turned bohemian coffee house
watching me
stand back from the microphone
so as not to make their ears bleed
with the tent revival tone of my voice
my words did that job instead
as black diamond costume jewelry
wild turkey cork
and sweaty poems
were cast by my fiery hands
toward blackened clouds
ceiling smashing
into the crowd
and kept
my luminous finishing facial powder
had snow fallen onto my cleavage
making my titties the unexpected
stars of the evening
little black dress
garters
boots
uncooperative fishnets
a donor bought all the performers their seats
a robin came forward to admit
we share a place of commonwealth birth
someone lifted my proof
of the first book i ever wrote
thank you
for caring enough
to steal me
poet
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