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Click hereWhat she has
is a porcelain man.
Oh, Patricia. How she feigns hunger
for her frail,
fetching boy, when she should have
an uncomely clay pot,
pouring his sweat
over her,
as she falls
on fair midnight — mussed
beyond pointless pretty.
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copyright d. dixon
2007
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I love the first two stanzas - amazing as always. I have to think and contenplate on the third. Stop making me think damn it! :)
I had to read it a few times, but yes, that is what she needs. The line- beyond pointless pretty- is excellent. I do question the need for the word "fair" before midnight, but with or without, good work.