Like Ladies

“Like ladies,”
She says, “All good ladies.”

Dip your hands in bowls of

Dead cuticle milk most stagnant
Until old nail beds dissolve
Into new flowering forms
Like spinning teacup skirts,
Like slippery eyelashes,
Like ladies.

Move men

Like Monroe’s windy thighs,

Like 21st century weaponry
Like Kennedy's nuclear erection,
Like ladies.

Harvest garden guts

For him to grow,
Like seeded fruits,
Like hungry ovaries,
Like ladies.

Stitched neatly

Under every
Neatly stitched dress
Is a sad-story-Sally
Suffocating under
“You’re so hot”
Muggy sex breath;

Loving and fucking,

Fucking and loving.