Ignoring the looks cast her way,
she stalks, a red-tailed devil tat her escort.
Corseted and pierced, with high high-heels,
She's a heat-seeking missile in the flesh.
Glanced at, stared at, secret looks pry,
So young and so outrageous.
She knows the stir she causes,
indifferent, she neither pauses
nor apologizes for her look.
I read her like I would a poorly written book,
scanned and sketched, details dismissed.
And yet, she makes an enduring impression,
a memory of persistent outrageousness.
Poetry from 53A