Saturday, December 6, 2008

Poetry Assignment: Tattoo

Tiger

"Do you like it?"
"I guess."
"It's cool."
"Is it?"
"Yeah, it is."
"Why?"
"'Cause it's a tiger."
"It is?"
"Hell yes, it's a tiger."
"Ok, if you say so."
"What do you mean?"
"If you say it's a tiger
it's a tiger."
"Damn right it is."
"Whatever you say, Steph."
"Fuck you, Daphnie."
"Thanks, Steph."
"Aren't you getting one?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Chicken?"
"No, it's not for me."
"You're chicken."
"No, I'm not chicken."
"Yes you are. You are."
"I wasn't chicken when
we got our labias pierced."

All the while the needle
Buzzed, the ink flowed,
And the artist wiped away
The blood. The tiger,
For that's what it was,
Emerged from her shoulder.
Like Michelangelo and
His blocks of marble
Carving away what shouldn't
Be there, the tattoo
Artist revealed what was
Already hiding just
Beneath her skin.

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