One Blessed

Connie slumps as a broken yoga nude on office chair stuffing and horse hair.
Lolling splayed with the public oracle dispenser as primary light, she can see
her role has become guest, prisoner, client to negotiate. They have to keep
her alive. She will always rub their face in that; her loins are still soft enough
to snatch cock from any nest; her brain can scramble eggs on flat rocks; her
love is like a burning hot smokestack. As she wisens into chaff, she meditate:

As the Flounce Girl, I made my fortune young and almost forgot the sufring
of my peoples. We small, blond and humble, not without cultural misgivings.
Out of control with the free breath of living, I garnered envy n' persecution;
there was no one in my tree of friends and famly that could withstand to su
-pport my idle woes a drumbeat longer. When another is illin, you'll explain,
"oh how we make our own way, own troubles." With grace go I, one blessed.

1blesit, the Mp3