This Woman Wild

Wild girl dances soup storms on kitchen benches
humming and spitting, announcing her ravashing hunger.
As eve turns knight, she prances through seedy back-alleys
leaping over carefully chosen urban benchmarks
capturing momento from unsuspecting clothes lines.

She curses the moon for illuminating her frame
when a civil stranger greets her in the street.
She froths fucking hello as some tormenting courtship
then disappears behind dark familiar bushes.

The pursuit begins,
Trapper starts taunting her offering gleaming saucers of velvet milk.
A shrewd attempt to placate her nurturing side.
Cautiously, they sip from the plate’s rim
…but each night…
White tide it does drop, forcing them to inch closer.
The milk come shallow and starts to turns yellow,
Wild girl shrugs and submissively rolls on her back to let him pet her.
He howls out in horror and disappointment:

‘This woman ain’t wild’
‘This woman ain’t wild’
‘This woman ain’t wild’

This Woman Wild

ellejayerose

Joined March 2008

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  • Mike Paget
  • ellejayerose
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  • ellejayerose
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