Issue 194, Fall 2010
The second woman shines my shoes.
The other takes my order, curtsies. Thank you, sir.
Others stand there in the rain so I can mount them when I choose.
It's how protective I
Can be that keeps them going. Look at her:
She clicks her heels together, bowing slightly. Try
To put yourself in her shoes: boots, garter belt, and veil.
To be a piece of tail.
She's smiling. Is she really so amused? I've recused
Myself from judging whether that means she's abused.
So far I've refused
To let myself be called confused.
I hope these photos of St. Louis will be used.