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PEOPLE LIKE ME
when I
heard she’d won
a ten thousand dollar coat
in a raffle
I knew right away
why people like me
don’t need fur
because if I had won
I can tell you right now
I would have taken
the most amazing photos
asshole naked
except for
that fur
a real
professional
photo shoot too
not like a stint
at glamour shots or anything
I would have splashed out
one good time on the ambiance
amber-bulbed lighting
beaded curtains
sheer billowy tapestries
and a wind fan
a few tropical vines
and some real sexy mood music
something betty davis would approve of
I’d pose
almost reclined
in a sedan-like chair
no
in one of those wicker patio thrones
with my one tattooed calf
slung over the side
and harem girl gold bells
glistening around my ankles
red
lipstick
green
eyeshadow
bronzer
shimmer lotion
and tiered earrings drizzling
down to my shoulders
I
wouldn’t have gotten the coat
insured
I would never have worn it
again
I would have put that photo of me
naked but for fur and my inner hussy
in a bubblegum machine locket
around my neck
then I would have sold
that carcass
for a plane ticket
to as far away as
people like me
can go before we stop
JUKE DREAM
beneath
this dress you will find no slip no
corset bone no petticoat no
garter no silken sleeve
to fit into a patent heel no
lady no modesty required
here
you may
only find his nape
and jaw scraping
into the sweetmeat of my thighs
and not much higher the inner whorl
of his ear begs
for my tongue beyond that
only salt and water
dissolve what is left
of the howl and moan in me
no
decorum could last beneath
the throb of this bare red bulb anyway
or the immaculate gyrate of our hips
grinding away like time
below our upraised glasses
that incessant caul of smoke
and the soft slap and whir
of eclipsing skin
between
we two
there is only cloth
bereft with damp
succor
grime
rage
and the mad haze of this sweet mirage
beneath
this blouse
there are only (erect)breasts
beneath this shift
there are only (shoveling)hips
beneath our feet
there is only (distant)earth
cleaving to our soles
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