Patrick Carrington - February 2008
 
ONE MIGHTY FINE PIECE OF STRANGE


For lovesticks like Louise it’s all
thin edges. Staying as sleek

as her heels. Body a blade, attitude
a razor. It’s the way she walks

the wire, quivering on stilettos
with hints of rum and ruin

like balance is a yardstick of courage,
like freezing traffic stiff as a man

reminds her how much woman
she is. And it’s the way she talks

without words, her open invitation
to look, follow. Good god, how sharp

she shines with a twist and blink,
cutting her own slice of hot sky,

yellow hair swinging its sunfingers
as she turns, eyes living lightning

and nylon flashing electric, thunder
hips rumbling, blowing your mind

like the big bang. It’s the damned
way she stops and dares you

to dream, then damns the dream
that dares to stop. You just know

she’s been to culinary school
but won’t cook you by the book,

that she’ll chew you raw then pick
her teeth with your bones. You’ll

run home ragged, that fuckdoll
branded on in scars and pictures

you hide under the mattress.
As you sleep she’ll slip through

sheets like a scalpel, slide inside.
But what really makes her special

is knowing that stealing your dreams
is only petty larceny. 
 

Patrick Carrington is the poetry editor at Mannequin Envy (www.mannequinenvy.com). He's the author of Thirst (Codhill, 2007), winner of Codhill Press’ 2006 Poetry Chapbook Award(www.codhill.com), and Rise, Fall and Acceptance (MSR Publishing, 2006), which was runner-up in Main St. Rag's 2006 Poetry Book Competition (www.mainstreetrag.com). His poetry has appeared recently (or is forthcoming) in The Connecticutt Review, Rattle, The Evansville Review, The New York Quarterly, and other journals of varying interest.