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Page 35 / the essence lady

the essence lady
wears her irregular uniform
a pinstripe kente
syncopation suit

she dreads her hair
sprung from lock down
under steel teeth press gang
galleys upstart crow's nest

eyes lashed half open
look of lust bitten
lips licked the dusky
wicked tongued huzzy

am I your type
that latest lurid blurb
was all she wrote her
highbrow pencil broke

Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003


Read poems about / on: lust, hair, spring

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