I just wanted to be in a place where a girl can go about her business--
fluff her hair,
fix her face,
without half the magistrates in Canada wanting to know her particulars.
I thought that if I left Calgary and headed north,
that that dumb RCMP fuck would not follow me,
shoving his desk through the snow like a sled dog.
Why can't a girl listen to Tchaikovsky of an evening?
And if scarves get tied to the four poster,
is that anyone else's concern?
If money changed hands and then I had to change the locks,
does the world have to know?
May I no longer wear white? Will my nanny jobs dry up?
Listen--
a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.
If a cabinet minister expires on the premises,
and I don't wrap him neatly in a maple leaf flag,
tell me,
is it fair to drag me before the courts?
He couldn't handle some five star pussy, that's all.
It's not as if I assassinated Gretzky.
Anyway,
I thought that if I came up here, my pursuers might give up.
I hoped they might tire of pine boughs snapping back in their faces,
though some of them have paid me well enough for similar.
I thought they might get sick of stepping in moose shit,
and going without Timbits for days on end.
I am Bo Peep of the Far North.
I keep moving as best as I can, though my boots are not really made for this,
and I never got a chance to change.
Jack London, listen to me honey--
Save my happy ass, and I'll make it worth your while.
No Esquimo squaw can make it good for you like I can,
and very few of them possess
a whip,
and a pretty, painted
Japanese fan.
________
for Hannah's Transforming Friday at Real Toads
confused by Canadiana? Find the Calgary Stampede HERE and Timbits HERE.
RCMP = Royal Canadian Mounted Police
Beautifully realised, as always.
ReplyDeleteOh My Sweet Lord, this made my Sunday! (Oops! Didn't mean to blaspheme)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words as always!
ReplyDeleteWhat a way to start my day, Shay. You made me look up Timbits--they look just like glorified doughnut holes to me--so mission accomplished: you took me further afield--further from the report cards I'm SUPPOSED to be doing right now--with your diversionary tactics.
ReplyDeletewicked, wicked wench!
ReplyDeletePersonally, I think you've combined the best features of a stampede *and* a short story. "It's not as if I assassinated Gretsky..." yer killin me, Bo Peep.
ReplyDeleteWhat I meant to say was Beautiful...as always!
ReplyDelete:P
Love it, especially the pine boughs snapping back in one's face.......you know a lot about Canada, Missy! I love the humorous take on the taiga, as only you can do it.
ReplyDeleteThis made my morning. That's all I've got to say.
ReplyDeleteUm, brb~should only take a minute or so (blush)
ReplyDeleteI've done some dog sledding and i really don't think those boots will work.
ReplyDeleteAnd isn't pine boughs snapping, the point? No wonder they stick to the trail!
Poor lil misunderstood bo peep (and her cane staff)
Reminds me of a sweet lil thing i met in a fairbanks strip club.
Said her name was skeeter, but i doubt it.
Bought her hundred dollar bottles of champaigne before she roofied me to bypass the normal order of business. But i don't blame her.
A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.
Great write, shay! Full of fun and sass.
~rick
I enjoyed reading this and taking off on my own tangents: This sounds to me like a desperate phone call and so I picture a red phone booth leaning up against some big pine with a Bo-peepish Annie-Oakley type ready to fight but wishing she just didn't have to. In the face of the stampede, story may be the only safety.
ReplyDeleteOkay, Susan? I'm just going to say it plain: your tangents on my poem are just irritating.
ReplyDeleteIt's a difficult task to run away from yourself...especially when wearing stilettos.
ReplyDelete"without half the magistrates in Canada wanting to know her particulars" ... Amen to that.
ReplyDelete"Why can't a girl listen to Tchaikovsky of an evening?" ... A lovely beginning.
"If money changed hands and then I had to change the locks,
does the world have to know?" ... Right?!
"though some of them have paid me well enough for similar" ... Too funny.
My favorite section:
"and I never got a chance to change.
Jack London, listen to me honey--
Save my happy ass, and I'll make it worth your while.
No Esquimo squaw can make it good for you like I can,
and very few of them possess
a whip" ... Excellent, right on through to the end.
I'm always excited to see what you've come up with to top the last, for I know you always do top yourself ... over and over again.
Sassy, imaginative stuff! The last two stanzas just had me cracking up. Fans and whips... how can London resist?
ReplyDeleteWill my nanny jobs dry up? In a word, Yup!
ReplyDeleteBut nothing else seems dried up so what's the big wup?!
i've heard the Mounties always get their man, but i hope this girl gets away... whip and all.
ReplyDeletehave a great week, SP!
♥
.. unless someone snapped photos to document all the 'stuff' ... nanny jobs are secure!!
ReplyDeleteLol!! This:
ReplyDelete"
Anyway,
I thought that if I came up here, my pursuers might give up.
I hoped they might tire of pine boughs snapping back in their faces,
though some of them have paid me well enough for similar.
I thought they might get sick of stepping in moose shit,
and going without Timbits for days on end."
Awesome take on this Shay...entertained indeed...well done, Shay!!
Thanks for writing Transforming Friday!