A Woman

I want a woman who smokes
Black oily rollups ideally, or Woodbines
She should spit in the street
Curse and much worse
Steal people, reeling them in
With throwaway lines

I want a woman who dresses atrociously
Says yes laconically, argues ferociously
Relaxes and smiles while the building is burning
Her overcoat singed smelling of the last binge

I want a woman – just one is enough
She does her thing while I do my stuff
No mixing or matches of collar and cuff

She just doesn’t give a shit
Not one tiny little bit
And hasn’t the time to waste
Grudging and huffing
Nose high in the air
Never down in the trough
She laughs like a drain
At suggestions and questions

Ask away, she says
Ask for anything, everything
I’m here for the evening
The broken-down heavens
The ripped and uneven

A smooth and irregular
Pencil to the jugular
Draw it in, draw upon
Draw through it, draw it in
Dreaming and drinking
Drawing up
Drawn until dawn
Sun is up
On