As if I mocked him
or Love, so wounded
he dreams me

on swift legs
a doe-woman
without bow and arrow

graceful, and shy
slender, and modest
wise, but a woman

subject
to his desire
to possess

my desires
sharp in view
as I run, longingly

looking at him, panting
entangled in his hands
until he is satisfied

What year are we living in?
Is that song banned?
Shunned? Forgotten?
Is it that time yet?

Do men have better judgement?
Are they less fickle?
So women won't have to
be any more?

Don't they play
king and duke
like boys anymore?
Don't they brag

about conquests anymore
laughing at the jester
who says it's not funny?
La donna è mobile?

Does a girl really

need to learn to see herself --


as their *** object?

dog leashed, tied onto a pitch-black pole
woven to the pillar, like you're woven to my soul

every thought about you pours acid in my heart
and i cough out the rest like blood
one day i'm scavenging for water, a paranoid dart
the next i'm drowning in a hot-pink flood

i saw you in the window of that small local store
after becoming a regular, the door wouldn't open anymore
but you looked so pretty when you were so far away
and for some reason i come back every day

but it was so good at first
you made me finally believe
that someone out there could love someone like me

and i told you what i did wrong
and you said you didn't care
but i must've mistaken that love was in the air

i try to talk to you
i try to understand
but every word i say to you
you repeat back, just bland

and you blame it on me?
you say i'm the confusing one
so i chase and chase, give and give
you never let me take some

it's my mistake i put love first
my mistake i wasn't rational
my mistake that when you said you liked me
i somehow didn't think it was casual

i'm a dog waiting at your door
saliva puddle on your wooden floor
i wait for you to come back
like i'm tied to a pole, pitch-black

my hunger has been satiated now
i open my eyes for the sixth time
this has gone much longer than i can allow
you're making me run out of rhyme
i guess it was my mistake that even then, even now
i somehow thought you would be mine.

i hate the way men look at me
jesus never had to deal with that

as a girl i was ignorant
of what men's eyes say of their intent -
the things said in silence
when two strangers hold a stare

but, as i've aged I've realized
the things that men say with their eyes  

some men will never betray their heart,
some men only play the part,
and some men don't even know
why some women pull their heart strings so

with the first, they'll only show
what's truly in his heart and soul;
they'll never lead you with a lie -
these are the eyes i'm taken by

with the next, they'll never show
what breaks his heart or mends his soul;
they'll pamper you with gifts and laughter -
those were the eyes i once chased after

with the latter, they won't take chances -
his desires are whispered through stolen glances;
if pressed, he couldn't tell you what the plan is -
the eyes that showed me what romance is

Though a man of competence
might master a non-stick pan
with only casual reading
of its manual, he WILL need
to read the instructions for
a chain saw. The aftermath
of careless use does differ.