Hand Me My Leather
Twisting and writhing
Ruffling leaves as she passed
S-curves and U-shapes
Propelled her
Past the crumbling daylight
Into the absence of sun
Tar and pitch
Where nothing was to be seen
She sank down on her belly,
Licked the air, thought about
Her life as she gulped a rat
Wondered at beasts and bugs
Their feet, hooves, legs
Ponderous about her own
Lack there of
Her belly had grown crispy
Her eyeballs dry and flaky
As she continued to wonder
In her state of change
Belly down, itchy, itchy!
How easy it must be
For the horse to gallop away
For the cat to preen with paws
The cow to kick unwanted infusions
But she! SHE had to grind and rub
Against rock, bush and dirt
Was she powerless?
The moon
The cold blue white glow of the moon
provided just enough sparkle for her to glisten,
in her shiny black bodysuit
And she began to think doubly
About her situation, as she undulated and bucked and listed, to free herself of her skin
Black bead eyes observed the crunchy strips of paper flaking off, revealing the supple oily wet curves below, new and smoother than fresh patent leather
Was she ingratiated by her lack
of paws?
By her absence of cow tail or even fingers and toes? No.
She thought on,
and considered her second skin, worn out and yellowed, as an old worn out slipper to be discarded, and she- she with her powerful belly like a smooth sole, gliding on the most agile, powerful foot, moved on
With a sensual ferocity
Across the night’s stage
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