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