Women quarrel on the hillside
Looking over the Quarry of Men,
Claiming their patch to spread their wings for the race;
Eagle, Pigeon and Hen.
She sees not her beautiful feathers,
Nor her elegant and menacing claws,
They could tear wonderful holes in this world of vanilla,
She's sharper than all of the saws.
Yet her mind is fixated on lesser ambitions,
This red tape is all that she'll cut,
And so the deed is done by the most desperate one,
As she swoops down into her rut.


May 2010