He took her under one wing.
She was his daughter now,
no more blow jobs in the alley.
He’d stick with the other
woman, his first, last,
and only incest between,
if you believed they needed that.
He didn’t give a shit
what the sanctimonious thought.
All he knew was what happened.
As for the other wing,
he’d let the spirit take flight.
Without a body what were you?
Magic wouldn’t get you by.
You had needs. You were stuck
where you were
I have to say this at least once:
I was most happy after a book
let me in on the secret of its art.
(28 April 2013)
copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander