she was always scared & she hid
her intelligence: it had teeth so
sharp it had to call & apologize
the night after it had a hot date
with him. she had the courage of
a drunk divorcee who demands
to slap the bartender for a lack
of anything else to do. but she
had so much to do that she hid it
from it all. she had neurons that
moved like a four armed anime
character dominating the touch
screen of just one smart phone.
in most ways she was perfect
but she was easily sent affright
she’d hide: lost in her own last
name. she was afraid of her
own tongue that it would break
the world. to each their own
box of pandora: hers was herself.
she had follicles that would go
on even after her fear left her
in a form of formaldehyde bliss.
an inch of her hair could cover
the whole of her intelligence &
she had freshly cut
bangs & a blue salvation
army dress the morning she
started sleeping beneath
six feet of earth.
…………………….now she walks
…………………….like a pimping
…………………….madam &
…………………….pulls me across
…………………….the street against
…………………….the light as my
…………………….tiny heart jumps
…………………….& starts living in
…………………….my throat that is
…………………….not intelligent
…………………….enough to tell
…………………….her that she is a
…………………….synonym for
…………………….ferocity. long
…………………….live she.

Previously published in Spork Press.

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M.G. Martin is the author of One For None (Ink). His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Word Riot, PANK, Requited and ZYZZYVA. Find him at http://www.mgmartin.tumblr.com & @themgmartin. M.G.’s “casserole of the sensual parts” is also in Reprint Poetry.

Object(s) to bring back to life: “I would like to bring back the 1970s, or more specifically, a time when women’s rights weren’t being attacked & taken away. Also, music like this: http://youtu.be/q0rUxL5Q3ts“