Pricking the Black

Catwalk flaunts- so heroin chic

with swollen knuckles and shark grins

these unwomen.

Those unwomen

hide damp needles (slightly soiled)

in dark places.

They lie in silence

pricking the black

an addict’s sad collection.

Cold unwomen

buried by furtive glances.

They glow- to warm their chill

and the music moans

(tell her I’ll be waiting

in the usual place).

Brazen-bold unwomen

predators in heels

lipstick red, take to bed-unwomen

pin with a look, fish on a hook

unwomen.

and the music whimpers

(slave to love whoa

slave to love).