On Women and Practicality (Two Poems)

12/14/06

Night Shift


                    on a napkin
                    she scribbled something
                    about the rough

                    moon-

                    shaped plates
                    she has yet
                    to wash



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My Hips, Have Mercy


     Slowly, she presses

     teeth on her lower
     lip, then opens

     her thighs, raising
     (first) one, to try

                                   (My hips, have mercy!)

     on: an old pair of jeans.



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posted by S.L. Corsua