• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 10


She eyes the boor and brushes hair
which lustrous, sparks with highlights fair.

He speaks: “Women's feet are smaller
to get nearer to the sink –
never short of a dollar.”
He ogles: “Do not need to think.”

Recess of vanity unit
stores PhD … *Mental eunuch!*

“They always leave top buttons loose,
because their blouses are ‘too warm’
and coyly tilt the tight caboose
when turning on their only charm.”

She deftly slips the hair clip on
to defy physics with bouffant.

“I'll not take up your sparse airspace,”
she says, “for it’s simplicity
itself: truth is … a woman's place?
Precisely where she wants to be.”

And she leaves, gesturing for the movers to continue.