Pheromones

She was a spinning top,
a whirling dervish,
a blond cliche.
More easy than profound,
more obtuse than equilateral.

Technicolor dance floor
Sizzling air.
Arcane.

Bitches in heat.

I saw her with Matthew.
he was smoking a joint,
holding it between two tobacco stained fingers.
He killed his brother with a crowbar,
but got off because they couldn’t find fingerprints.

I think Matthew’s a ghost,
or maybe a con man’s son.
She grew up with him;
his tomboy.

His toy.
His experiment.

She looks at me and smiles.
big white teeth, fixed by the dentist.
He smashed them last year
with a coffee mug that said,
‘cupid ain’t stupid.’

She ain’t stupid either.
That’s how I know she’s going to kill him,
and I’ll just smile cuz
He taught her everything he knows.

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