The New Woman

THE NEW WOMAN

I like a man who’s good but not too good—for the good die

young and I hate a dead one.

Belle of the Nineties, bid good

riddance to old glad rags. Get Gold

Bond, Horlicks, Good-Gal, Twilfit. Good

Housekeeping says we are flesh

that hungers for the goods. Don’t

begrudge yourself. Goodness,

why bother? Lo, the Good

Lord knows a man

must work. And a good man works,

Mae says. At least on me.

Until such goodness

kills him. We all die

anyways. So long. Boo hoo.

A hard man is good to find,

Mae says. A hard woman, too.

Mae West: On Aging

MAE WEST: ON AGING

I’m telling you, it’s always better to be looked over, than

overlooked.

Better your mask in the mirror. Better yet,

mask the mirror. Listen to Auntie Mae: It’s better

to evoke drool, to banter than ebb, better to be boned

than bones. A woman is time’s slave and intimate, lost

the moment her looks begin to go. You like your skin

as it wilts and slides, relieved by your total release

into time’s dominion? No more babe in woods, you say,

you’re Astute Botanist; Noisome Hetero Drone evolved

to sanguine witness. The soul, meat’s subtle shadow,

has no looks at all. So why not enshrine

what ornament skin gives it: thank the heavens

that reside between the legs? It ain’t death, hon,

but lack of nerve rendering you invisible. Better to be

than not to. Garb your mug in ashes. I’ll revel in the divine.

“Celebrity” Striptease at Southern X-Posure

“CELEBRITY” STRIPTEASE AT SOUTHERN X-POSURE

I’m no model lady, you know. A model’s just an imitation of the real thing.

On stage, “Mae West” disrobes. She

slithers, writhes, addle-eyed: a girl ladled

into heels and an idol’s name. “Amateur

Hour!” the bar flyer cries where men whistle,

yell as she blushes, unbosomed, the roots

of her hair like tar leaking through wheat.

What’s in a name? Bared, the body’s a rusted

sigil, slosh of atoms; the girl less Titian-

figured than a ghost trolling Mae’s dead adages:

Ain’t at anyone’s mercy if I say I want it.

Money tosses among dust motes eddying