She was
Caught between two schools, or stools,
Of thought and age, of custom and practice,
Wrested from her sex, hers and the image
Her culture and influence, shocking!
Amy’s tallow flickered in the half light
Of obscurity and fame, never to blame,
Like a candle that was losing oxygen,
Passion, control, will or shapeless form
She was beef or mutton fat smeared
Her broken notes, her Jewish nose,
Her tumbled hair taught, ripped clothes
Scarred, branded, tossed – she cared
Her pretty breasts worn – she bared
Like her coloured voice, she hung out
In Vermillion with lace, poisoned by grace
Mounted tall those sensational legs,
Just postmen’s pegs by the trippings
And we saw her bare and rare, a rose
Poured out, champagne flute tumbling
Proud, firm, sex-full, hard and glistening
Every dry eye in the place erect, listening
Some, those haters, never tried even whistling
She broke in the wind, fermenting, barley laden
All too late, the pearls, the taxi, the applause
When laid to rest she sang Ava Maria, we cried
She was …
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.. writtenbyedenbray01.06.2018
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- Proud, firm, sex-full, hard and glistening
edenbray - the poet - SITE A 