Woman in the Office


After the morning coffee,
Under the great // oak tree // that grows
From // the corner // where
The soul meets your metal desk

Why do you huddle//
In such and // such a manner? Your head lowered.
Or // head cocked. When has that // made
Any difference in // the gray?

Perhaps it is time //
To hang // your silk scarf upon a limb, //
Watch the neck of the // year catch ?watch her dangle
Her wafer thin legs // in front of that //
Running screen.

Run your eyes back// pirouette them
Through the oyster matter // until they
Stop // at the back of your fury bone.
Girl, don’t fear // the real
//organ of vision, rests safely //
Sheltered by china fingers// beneath
The left breast.

Why // gnaw at your wrists? Your
Blood is not // too sacred here //
Lay down your teeth // press on tongues.
You’ve learned Babylon,
Now face down and // utter.

Roll your pink bud
Over lettered keys. // Lick the salt from
Yesterday’s fingertips, // *cl-ick* // *cl
-ick*// Taste something you’ve // touched.
*cl-ick*

If the man comes, slide on that face,
Tongue harder upon the keyboard// sensually.
Allow your voice to // flutter around the rind of his ego,
Feel the male walls echo back // Those at the
Top appreciates a woman’s work// deduces
The necessity of red days.


2006© HrJ