FAST TALKING
FAST TALKING HIGH HEELED GIRLS
She had cult-ish hair pawned her crown
Into cheap tricks & rhetoric A Fisher Queen
if I ever did see one
Wounds ran deep Spitting image of cult-ish
haired mother Wolf eyes belied a sweetness
& a coquetry so seasoned she unhinged Kings
Met her at 4 she said: I’m gonna get nadopted
But went home once more where baby brother
burned on stove Wolf eyed mother left kids
alone again
I heard that 10 yrs. later she worked the street corner
where audacious lofters searched for warm brunches
& the Grail For 30 yrs. I entered a room spoke an arcane
language where small P.O.W.’s greeted me pre-verbally
An older boy who could speak said: It will get dark Therapist very dark
The voice still stalking me on the terrace Don’t talk to me
about metamorphosis please
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Fall 2013
songanddancegirl 