Magna Anne

Oh snap, Magna Anne cried,
my tits are frothing and I'm chambered at the bit,
I've doubled my losses, haven't I
my priorities are questionable,
some soothing tale of misconduct has
wedged its slippery prehensile missile
   deep into the fabric of my subconscience,

I am creosote and chromosomes
gone awry, from her bellows came
I am just another statistic
   on her way to the gallows,
mistook often,
and often left behind,
if with pepper'd tenancity I am
caught wagging this old dog's tail
it is with an unseen wrath that
   my coal fires burn,

Oh boy, concluded Magna Anne,
I've gone just a smidge too far,
this time, too far,
my lips magenta pause water-logged with
sultry stain
still pert enough to whistle,
to drag you below heaven's mirror with a distant
cry, my enchantress shadow
in the fancy footwork of this
   potent pubic providence.

TA