(no subject)
This woman where I work,
A major in biology,
Says she's dissecting cats.
Her voice dangles baritone notes
With hoarse heights of femininity,
Like a boy's voice breaking when he's caught stealing
-But not from guilt.
She wears a white-washed jean skirt
Of smooth overcast windowpane
Blue, and blinks with a chubby,
Apple-red complacent grin,
Then says she's looking forward to it.
I remember how I couldn't help
All the smug handshakes and lucky breaks
That brought me comfort-
And wonder when I'll rot
Instead of be dissected
-And if she'd be as interested.
A major in biology,
Says she's dissecting cats.
Her voice dangles baritone notes
With hoarse heights of femininity,
Like a boy's voice breaking when he's caught stealing
-But not from guilt.
She wears a white-washed jean skirt
Of smooth overcast windowpane
Blue, and blinks with a chubby,
Apple-red complacent grin,
Then says she's looking forward to it.
I remember how I couldn't help
All the smug handshakes and lucky breaks
That brought me comfort-
And wonder when I'll rot
Instead of be dissected
-And if she'd be as interested.