All Fur Coat And No… Poem by Mark Heathcote

Naked under a broken street light
Naked underneath her fur coat
Naked underneath her fur collar
Upturned, pointing to the half-moon.
Waiting; with her black leopard skin, fur coat on
In her high heel red shoes, like two menacing fangs.
A fiendish woman with a rattlesnake serpent echo.

She's walking on broken shards of moonlight
She's out there strutting, her stuff,
On broken shards of moonlight, moonlight, glass.
One hour in People is saying she's nothing but trash
Her useless, flesh is drained, tired, emptied out.
Trying not to tremble for a moment, look feeble.
Where does your blood flow?

When hearing those potential punters laughs
Come and go. Coming and then going.
Oh, her own self-annihilation is it just a lipstick
Stain left on their collars. It's quite a deliberate mark
Done when coughing deeply between her thighs
Guess you're feeling dizzy now an angel
Where does your blood flow? Where does childhood go?

Taking those last few drags…
Sucking on a Marlboro fag scrounged
Saying how it's been your pleasure to please
Come again, my name is Candy Ebony Eloise.
Forget your woman, she's just a tarantula
A dead piece of meat I know how
I know how to please and satisfy you.