slinking down the canyoned street
stalking, nylon-smooth to prey
on predatory eyes who meet
her own. some smile, some turn away.
some know she'd eat them to the bone;
they know that they would die to let her.
some'd use her, drop her like a stone
and say that she deserves no better.
the first she calls her daily bread,
grazing as she culls the herd.
the second brings a smile instead;
male ego, cocky, brash, absurd
to think that any man could claim
to beat her at her chosen game.