.:Miss Staking:.

 
she’d been like freshwater
the kind that quenches dry land
never bland.. having one always hope
hoping that she’d soon get here or
be there..
either way would be fair; where
what she’d do is take care...take her time..
pulling sanctified gems out of ones mind
so sublime, doing and influencing whom ever she can
oh, the luck of men

she came out of an outstretched past
knew well, deserted plains & abandoned concrete
some of the denizens, they had
intimated, whispering she was some kinda freak
aloud, some called her skank. but no…she wasn't
probably know that if you knew her
she was just worn.  war torn by organized porn
from being told outright; told how she
how she needed to get her deeds right
yeah right, them townsfolk cloaked
some who spoke by taking a vote
but politics sometimes do & don’t break even
where some just won’t chance grieving
while others haven't a problem with
self-deceiving...but yeah

most men-shunning,
how she wasn't discreet enough
their judgments and gossipy consensus
the loose chit-chat streaming back
& forth across fences
but that's what she always had..
more than enough opinions about being bad
so sad - knowing full well that
having an insatiable win
this was a thing most couldn’t tell
so the stares & silence were
big parts of their common dominion
wherein all parties always made themselves
right at home

she’d still roam
not at all concerned with
what a pompous people peeped
under a full moon or not ...she’d run like the sun
freely giving another bright lesson
to herself, considered a blessing...and any bad choice
it’d be a good sample for this great Miss- Staking
yeah, she’s had no problem with taking or
giving into those unhampered minds
sun dried where their empathy
had never been denied

she placed moist lips on a bored stiff
swelling the head with her thrills
naw it ain’t never been about them bills
she could always...and in all ways
change the bitter to the better, then
go further bringing it to what’s sweet
it’s what she believed to be a run complete
the essence of some real raw running
sprinting to “know” end


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photo: j. stekl