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ONCE IN ARIZONA
I met a woman who had her nipples
pierced twice working as a stripper in
a joint in New Orleans, and her labia once.
The triangle of chains brought men to
their feet and her a kind of acclaim, but
that circuit burns a girl out fast, and there was
a man with a gun. She married soon after,
moved to Texas. He worked the rigs,
she stayed in town. When the baby
died, they bought Harleys, headed for
California. Her nipples healed. She wore
a diamond stud between her legs.
This poem appeared in the TOMCAT.
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