The stark contrast of
Black and white
Works for them
In the dusty dry brown
Of the savannah
In their herd
They remain strong
Indistinguishable
From on another
And it is mere chance
That one
As opposed to any other
Is singled out
By their predator.
A sea of legs
Shaven and glossed
With body lotion
Three inch spikes
A red pair
A black pair
A silver pair
Short little skirts that hug
Tight little rumps
And tight little tops
That reveal almost
All there is to reveal
They desire so much
To be singled out
Yet remain indistinguishable
To their predator
In the savannah
The lioness paces
Then lies low in the tall grasses
Watching the zebras at the watering hole
It matters not which one she takes down
So long as by the end of the hunt
Her prize is a memory on her tongue
And fills her now empty belly.
The red head, the blond,
The brunette it matters not
Tomorrow he will have conveniently lost
the telephone number
And forgotten the name
But tonight he approaches
Ready to trade the cost of a drink
For her prize.
