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60’s spent 70’s

deboomsed & nigh but spending

on-goes…not of me

this diatribe of you who

objets d’subjection aye


2.5 billion

of age you are told fillies

an’ mares alike to

the proscripted dawn rite for

yawning peeing abluting

the harnessing of

the girls a pejore not of

your neology

nay but sold like shucked oysters’

shells pearled an’ sequined rainbowed


colours to your not-

so-secrets’ strive to hide those


straps whose day-end tattoos like

ruts an’ grooves not too groovy


foolish female

foolish woman

foolish girl



the muzzle and see…


this is not for me


this harness

the same which bridles you

to wars’


you are

not yet dead

they are not ornaments

why do


under the wire

its cur perpetuate

of strap wire hook

for bombs’ fashion

victory’s secret

the biggest of all kept

no matter how jessydressy dressed

complicit locked an’ loaded

pretty’s don’t make free

free makes pretty

clasp hands only


not for me

do you see

only your seeing eyes

interest me

don’t remove

don’t put on

for you authentic female

mammaries of the smiles

50,000 years left behind

the way we were

the way you are



feel the space

draw the breath

send V’s secrets

as prayer dar cho

write your own

prothesis and


the man on your back


a bitch an’ pony

show trained onto you & just

aged missy-like-mam

in training for what!? the girls

are biomindful but ob-


eisance? aye. culture

like packaged fashion dicktat’d

neigh’s & nay-nay’s the

hoots on you self-imprisoned

airless shackles complicit


ogling designed con-

traptions… & stupid shoes tall

& pricey cathedrals made

for downhill ambles only

else…fashionshun aye there’s the


hitch a change is clear

fight taboos as a distaff

chauvinist show heart

cleave option to comfort the

EarthyAnnie school for fid



a re-minding goddess not



cougartigerlace market’r


get the points don’t trusst

them to rein-in as preter-

natural as a

chrissie hynde laur’ anderson

a mad mad madonna morld


t. thomas’ cap’talist

pr’noccusession for bosoms

business all along

the watchtowers readying

for the evening room Lilith


take off the aye cups

the muzzle…and see!




ST (l’chaos!)


Comments (1)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

I wanted to hate this poem!!!! But I cannot... it is brilliant!!! My cups floweth over amen to that... thnx T

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