She has had enough of this tight-assed skinny hipped nonsense,
walking down the street like a rail, like a pole, like a wall.
Wild Rose swings her hips while she saunters.
She moves in curves. She is more swank, more sway everyday.
And she wants some tail. Not a fluffy little scut. Not a prehensile
appendage always grabbing at stuff. She wants a long and slinky
swirl of tail that swings when she walks, and you bet
she will swing it for the pure feline fun of swinging.
She wants to swish it and flick it with the wiggle of her gait.
She’s got fanny and flair and a swagger in her ramble,
and a tail, well she’s been looking for another way to tease
anyone who thinks a girl should play it straight. It rocks it
on her coccyx, and the way she’s feelin’, the road can’t be long enough.
*For those of you who have not met Wild Rose before, she is my alter ego, and does all the things I am too afraid or embarrassed to do.