She was a masquerade

So I’m still going through my old journals, reconnecting with some of my earlier creative ideas. There’s some good stuff in there!! Lots of writing, lots of sketches, lots of beginning ideas. The next few blog posts will probably be dedicated to things I discover along the way.

Here is a short poem I found, written on Equinox, 2004.

She was a masquerade
Her headdress of
red
mane

Nails to match
and eyelids
a
glitter

She wore her pink
inside
out

She was a shell bomb
Ready to shell-bomb
you all
outa here
“Hello Mr. Fox”,
she’d say
“Can I lead you astray?”

She was a mean
machine

She was a clock
with no tock
She laughed
like she was
upside
down

She knew how to
shangle with
the jangle

Yes she was that
kinda woman

A woman with no rules
a put-em in a box
and throw them over
kinda girl

Yes, she was.

Titties a poppin’
knees a boppin’

She moved her hips
like Shirley Temple
with her curls cut off

1-shirley-temple-ca-1934-everett
Shirley Temple, Ca. 1941

And added to the next day..:

She was practicing her kickboxing moves
When the phone rang.

“What do you want?” She breathed into the receiver.

“I want your body. I want your mind.” He breathed into the other end.

“Go to Hell.”

Click.

She was almost finished.
Just one last
PUNCH
and a
KICK.

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