Snake Charmer
by Julie Gates

While the speaker at the conference droned on and I began to nod off,
I focused on the creature sitting 4 chairs away from me on the same row.
She wriggled around like a restless squirrel in her warm brown cashmere sweater dress,
her ripe plum breasts poking out and punctuated by rounded pineapple wedges--
nothing too rigid or angry.

Her solid, mile-long legs writhed and flowed like the muscles in a mock-speed cheetah.
Her hair, long, shining, thick, gold-fired brazen red, could hang a person--
she knew it, given the way she threw it around, carelessly twisted it,
and hung it back up in a different configuration every other minute.

Turkish bronze and big cat spots adorned the bangles hanging from her slender lightly veined Grecian arms,
sworded blingy rings as sharp and pointed as rapiers lazily rolled around on the delicate rail-thin fingers,
elegant objets d’ art dangled like a blinding Egyptian fantasy from her tiny pearl white ear lobes.
Dead-weight, high-heeled, leather boots ended the long meandering lines from panty-hosed thong-punctured waist to foot.

She tossed and turned like a cat in heat all during the droll presentation--
ever self-conscious of her Aphrodite beauty.

The speaker finally reached silence,
she turned my way--
the nymph revealed the face of an ancient Medusa hag
and I ran.

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