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The Bucktoothed Bitch ©

Paul Murdoch
Alexandria, Scotland
2004

The bucktoothed bitch that squirms amongst the seasoned viney leaves;
Expels her putrid smoky breath and dares a flower to breathe.
Her veggie iridescence; self-righteous stares of glee;
Home in on those bewildered, with hands behind their knees.

We dare not shout; nor feign complaint, we must not move or breathe;
While bucktooth bitch feeds full her face with wizened sniff and wheeze.
His gift is soon rejected and put aside with ease;
Neath blushes and disgruntlement the bucktooth bitch can tease.

The moments bleed away from him; drain passion laced with pride;
He failed to crack the porcelain that shields her thorny hide.
The buck-toothed bitch resplendent; her gory soul revealed.
Alone and ever petulant; her fate forever sealed.


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