All Men Aren't Bad
(WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE)
Hand-guiding,
Shirt-sliding,
The café boy
Thought he
Would score—
A hidden face
Behind silky
Red hair, sturdy
Legs tastefully crossed,
Dangerous is the
Shelter of the bus-stop
Cote, the single bench
Recommending to
Sit together—
I wonder
About fingerprints
On door handles
Of bathrooms and
Emergency exits,
About
About
What was happening
To undermine that
Strength of closed legs
And skinny jeans,
Sweatpants and
Bikini strings,
It doesn’t matter to
The predator,
That skeleton in
The kitchen cabinet
Beside the peanut butter,
One never looks through
Ferns beside truck stops
Or trees behind churches,
The man must have been
Too old for the job—
I stick my leg out
To let him trample, the
Sticky fingers brushed on
His apron wouldn’t catch
A ghost,
If I could
I would staple his dick to
The floor with the
Heel of my shoe—
But all men aren’t bad.
Well, I've read this twice and really have no idea what to make of it.
ReplyDeleteYou are good with words and images, but the coherence of the story escapes me.
Cheers!
JzB