the bartender
feeds her manhattans,
only chargers her
for every other one
making it easier on them all.
the more lubricated she gets
the farther her shirt slides
off her shoulder,
drunken body leaning
in a drunken boat
and it reveals
a tattooed ring of daisies
around her left breast.
she can't see much more
than the faint, blurred smiles
wolves licking their sharp teeth.
they want to open her up
like a flower, their mouths
stinging her like bees
touching her secrets, roughly.
they want to fill her
with the seeds of their fathers
and watch her wilt
with the poison.
Aleathia Drehmer 2008
Published By Opium Poetry 1/09
1 comment:
this one is brilliant, one that truly smacks of YES.
nice one.
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