Run races with scissors.
Take risks —
Not prisoners.

Otherwise known as…

I won’t wait on you
Hand and foot;
I’ll leave that to another gal
Who’s “just misunderstood.”

I came close enough
To lick Mic’s head,
But shied away from
The dreaded feedback…

Breathe gin-and-tonic
Lime-juice sighs
Pleading
To part
Her pliant thighs

Take your lecher-leers,
Plus all my jeers,
And make a paycheck
At the very least.
Bleat-bleat, little sheep.

Grope,
Stumble.
Hope,
Fumble.
Trouble
Bubbles –
POP!

Stop.

To market, to market
To buy a cracked egg…
Home again,
Home again,
Make a slave’s wage.