she leans back all cleopatra
with an asp in her purse
and tells him,
“bite me”
she leans back all cleopatra
with an asp in her purse
and tells him,
“bite me”
i’m sorry
but you must have me
mistaken
for someone else
another racehorse
with pretty teeth
and a dark mane
have you seen these
thunder thighs and delicate ankles
who the hell would bet
their paycheck
or heart
on me
chances are
comin’ round that last corner
i’m gonna throw that
too little of a man jockey
and roll
you’d better check your fuckin’ stats, baby
or learn to stay away from the ponies
with your christmas money
juicy rationalization
oozed from the side of her confection
over silver trimmed china blue roses
onto the starched doily
as he created a life story
though
she refused to be terra formed
over lemon scones and earl grey tea