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PaleHorse

a champagne Canadian
 1
 
 
in a drop-dead cocktail
 2
and palisade stilettos
 3
stomps out her butt
 4
as though she was drilling for oil
 5
and flips the bird
 6
to some milksop poet
 7
who tries to
 8
impress her with liripoop.
 9
 
 
but,
 10
she won't fall for it
 11
and she has
 12
no desire
 13
to inflict
 14
the cruel and unusual punishment
 15
of her smile
 16
on him,
 17
because he's a toff.
 18
 
 
 
 
Yet there’s also this guy
 19
in an oversimplified beard
 20
standing behind monitor,
 21
throwing up shade.
 22
 
 
And, even though
 23
he’s trying
 24
to make like Fante,
 25
it’s just not working,
 26
 
 
and she knows it,
 27
and you know it,
 28
and i know it.
 29
 
 
but this Canadian
 30
has the kind of legs
 31
that stick in your head
 32
like the 23rd psalm,
 33
only they make more sense.
 34
 
 
and her spike heels
 35
and her red lips
 36
and her black dress
 37
and her bright eyes
 38
only make him sadder
 39
 
 
and wilder
 40
 
 
and crazier
 41
 
 
as she writes away
 42
 
 
in the middle of the night,
 43
with the moon
 44
rising through a tire
 45
 
 
and the dogs
 46
on a street
 47
bark at someone
 48
 
 
who’s just managed
 49
to do something
 50
or someone
 51
terribly
 52
wrong.
 53

11 Feb 16

Rated 7 (8.9) by 3 users.
Active (3): 1, 10
Inactive (6): 3, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10

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(32 more poems by this author)

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Comments:

Nice characterisation. The portrait of a femme fatale is almost neutralised in L38 and 39...especially with 'only make him sadder,' but she is redeemed, or at least driven home, so to speak, at L46 to 53. Wickedly mysterious.

Great conclusion, thoroughly readable from start to finish. Well done.
 — PollyReg

bravo, poet.

you have certainly captivated a character to aspire to.
lines 5 and 7 are drowning me in love.

you write so freely, reading through you, as always, is so fluid, like you're a waterfall and the words are a canoe being guided down the river to the mouth of the fall, and over it goes with a force that can only be compared to gravity, or passion, or maybe those are the same thing.

line 39 aches

title pitch perfect.
 — jenakajoffer

this is a poem a bartender would write. like, on a napkin or on the back of a cardboard coaster after last call and most of the people have gone home because some chic noir that had you mix strange liquors that evening made you think of something deeper than your job. :)
 — jenakajoffer

dug it. Liked l30-34 a lot. Double-edged sword
 — sixtywatt

Good, good, good, stuff, man.
 — PaulS

I shall not want.

You're so layered in subtle sagacity. ;)
 — jenakajoffer

I had no idea Canadian women resonated so strongly. Thank you all.
 — PaleHorse

Such a hater. Both me and her.
 — Known

I basically dint need to read this again, it's one of those 'best the first times.'
 — Known

word wise, butt needs replacement, luv toff, good effort overall....hav to look y up...stanza 35 could be compressed w/ a wowing image
 — gombola

derrier stomp?
 — unknown

it's the butt of her cigarette
 — jenakajoffer

It's good if fellow poets can Yuma us, how 'bout stomping the plush...take it away
 — gombola

still hate butt
 — unknown

If it wasn't for spam, this would all be forgot.
 — PaleHorse

Never forgotten, but the spam does throw it in one's face at unexpected and opportune times.
 — jenakajoffer

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