Abishag's Brag

Girl, in my foxtails

and fishnets, I was all

city. Exotic

as a Vatican

bagel, accessible

as Port Authority.

I wiggled, lightning

would fork,

sidewalks buckle,

wrong numbers ring,

Earh speak. I was

so out of this world

gorgeous men had to

use raincoats and

boilermakers

for protection.

And cool?--Sister,

I was Antarctica Express.

One night of me

and a fellow would

be lonely

all ways.