The Good Girls Stay Fitted Poem by Wekpe Ogheneruru

we joke about how
fire gets a snake hissing
and how you can't discern it
from a shrew's hiss
and how damaged good girls get
when they don't find the guy
fitting their specs
they become anile
on their bed
they become a pallid rose
in the vast of a broken home
they do stay young forever
inwardly
they do
but those winkles
appear
when strutting shoulders
aim at nothing
but the sky
getting higher
meeting a girl blabbing about delicacies
yawning like the yellow sun in snow
she stands out in a white room
three black dots on her face
i drink two bullets and confess
she's a wife material
that could wrap an estate
twice
i tell her to keep shut
she leaves without saying a word
we joke about how good girls
become hoes
and how hoes become good
committed to men
once boys become men
they stop loving
girls that don't grow up.