Remember when we chewed
fat off hides, stitched with
sinew, Neanderthal fashion?
Now shimmering animals
swivel with uncomfortable
charm—flanked by
flourish, vehicle for
reverie as their heels
click across the trill
of runway. Leg gears
pump a parade of
sleepwalkers, arms
like clock weights,
torsos delivering
ideas that thrive on
sashay. Pose
mascara-heavy,
more dry martini
than mineral water,
armature with span
of hanger—hot
pepper jam &
jelly of bitchfest.
