A familiar drone infests the bar like tinnitus
It’s that of a innocent young thing of feminine decent
As tonight’s sideshows swarm to the last safe-heaven
Their clammy mitts play the role of the intruder
To locations only devotes and nannies should dare to probe
As she just stays stationary to the whole affair
Waiting for the horns of the masculine resistance
To come from the hill tops
Oh how refreshing it was to see you: stanced like a barbarian
As you watch his fingers slowly hover to the fringe of your jeans
Micro-molecules from collision, like a samurai wielding her katana
Your nails tear through his insufferable clans reptilian emblem
At a drop of a brow, he’s out the door
Oh sweet dear Bodacia
I’m unapologeticly devoted to you
Just bind me up do what you want to too
To feel the rush of a gash wound
From the heel of your regal studded boots
I’m yours to command, tell me what to do
I’m inspired by the mere comprehension of you
When I see the school dinner line of boys
Extending from where you stand at the bar
With their tails between their legs, Faces dropped like a Bulldog
There’s no misunderstandings, no unconsenting advances
A regular Kathleen Hanna for the Topshop age
Oh sweet dear Joan of Arc
I’m blind-sighted by the concept of you
Pin me up by the trachea till I turn blue
Drop me to the cobblestones under the moons hue
The boys might migrate to the smokers
When you showcase the canine choppers
But their isn’t anything I wouldn’t do
To get that look from you
Domestic Poetry 