January 2010
1 post
3 tags
HOT GIRL ON GIRL ACTION
I learn offstage that the waif
of a contortionist is only eighteen;
a culinary student, strangely
enough. She is amiss, all bones,
her shadow a snake-charming
sliver. Counting her ribs,
I feel my corset cut,
draw the line between physical
prowess and the brainy girl burlesque.
“What do you do?” she asks.
I fold a sonnet into my thigh high,
reply, “A phony vaudeville...