She always wore a black and blue shiner every Friday and Saturday night. Those stupide fist marks of his drama attacks. His eyes moved swiftly examining every visible track poking and stubbing his feet at the sign of suspected visiting lovers. He would walk ahead muttering his loving obscenities while she walked softly behind staring through his head with those cheap Indian Affairs glasses. Body Politics Mama said, Real woman don't steal from the sky and wear clouds on their eyelids.
Real woman have lots of meat on their bones.
They're not starving, hobbled horses with bony, grinding hips. Real woman caress with featherstone hands not with falcon fingernails that have never worked. When she was finished talking she clicked her teeth lifted her arse and farted at the passing city women. Coteau Books 401 - 2206 Dewdney Ave.