"Who Was That?" -- "Queen Bee Siren Song"

"Who Was That?"
 
Dancing under
Gasoline rain
She cranks the gain
To gnarl a snarl --
Plays a power chord
Like striking a match,
So the sound ignites
To melt away a latch.
Then thru the door
She sashays
Sipping a flask
Nasty or classy?
Depends who's asked,
But always with sass
Shaking her ass
Like a tambourine
Strutting the scene
On toothpick legs.
A metronomic eye begs
Tick-tick-tock;
Assuming
Serendipity post hoc,
Present at the same time
Is proof of divine intention --
Sexual predestination --
But she gives the slip
Butter slick
Around the corner
On her trip
To idle along the beach
Forever out of reach
Winking at surfers,
While they glide
Across a blue sky
Seven seas wide,
And not a shark in sight.
 
Fast forward
To one with the herd
Working dangerously
On the verge of legitimacy;
A technical writer
Under cover of night,
Moonlit
She twirls tight
Yet fluid
Round a pole
Leaving little hid
Until spray
From her fans
And throat
Paints the column
A barber's
Inspiring
What she rewrote.
Stage directions edited,
And fresh pages added:
 
From the cross
She fishes
For the damned blessed
Who rule Hell
Seeking rest;
She wets nuns thighs
With wishes
She hints
Her tongue can deliver
For a strip of silver --
Sure to make a quim quiver;
Later,
Bursting at the seams
The river floods
Thanks to a wet dream.
She floats the rapids
Pretending to be vapid
So no one asks a question
That results in confession.
She stops breathing
To be the dragon
Smoking
Ahead of the gasp
Cancer is calling
Choking
Delayed by her laugh
Until tap dancing
Like a drunken Mab
Delivering fancies,
She flags a cab
Waving her panties,
Hustles a free ride
With promises
Only a goddess is
Known to recite,
And cruising L.S.D.
She takes flight.

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"Queen Bee Siren Song"
 
Siren song coming strong
From a reptile mouth
Singing so sweetly
Of the Deep South.
Verses allude
In ways sublime and crude
To a queen bee beauty
A dying whore on duty
Ready for sale
As a cadaver --
More than you think
Would be happy to have her.
She sugars
Crocodile tears
To drip in lonely dears
Thirsty for her lure
And perverse tour
Of Fiddler's Green;
In ways obscene
Dicks tricked
Like the dope sick
Hoping a slick licked
Will horse kick
The gallows
Depression hallows,
Though it's never the void
Getting destroyed.
Yet cocksure
They sail over the edge
Expecting to nail
A cream dream
Come true
Electrifying orgasm
Burning through.
Only to find
They strolled into landmines.
Blown away
Legless bob and sway
In the Mississippi waves,
While a preacher prays
To see if Jesus saves
The desperate from drowning
As they wanted.