Warning: the following poem contains strong language, violence, and sexual situations. Reader discretion is advised.

“Bloody Mary” 

© Jane Bled 2016-2017

All Rights Reserved.

Spicy, not sweet,
Bloody Mary’s acid beats.
Her wallet’s stuffed with green,
Bling-bling, cha-ching.
The Mardi Gras queen
Of New Orleans
Licks her lips
Larruping clean;
Freshly feasted
From a blood donor’s dream.

She soaks her sheets
And clears the sheen
From her lover’s steam;
Mirrors suspended
Above the swing,
Where filming
And frolicking
Deign to finagle,
And meet.

His given name, she doesn’t need —
B.M.’s got a goddamned fleet
Of fey foot soldiers,
An army of elites.
She’ll spill their guts
Before they eat, eat, eat
A heaping platter
Of her tart titty-treats.

She takes the treacle
While they fap from the trees,
Balls low-hanging,
Loosely swaying,
In the bayou breeze.

She snaps her fingers:
“Next victim, please…”

“…and make it a double.”



Lip-lickin’ good | Photo © Jane Bled