Part 2 for the Spooky Slam… totally different style for me so I’m a bit nervous about reading this. So we’ll see how it goes.
This is the night.
Football players transform to monsters
that break young women under bleachers,
behind dumpsters,
in their own beds because
the screams didn’t sound
enough like “no.”
But they’re not monsters anyone can see.
Except tonight.
Tonight they show as the creatures they are.
Tonight she can scent them on the wind.
Tonight, the transformation takes place.
Tonight, pussies won’t be grabbed,
because Pussy fights back.
The soul of a panther, summoned to inhabit.
She stands before the mirror, watching as her
limbs become muscled,
her ears
Tufted triangles, her teeth and nails thicken and
come to a sharp
point.
She can see in the dark. She can hear the breathing
and quick pulses of the monsters
as they hunt.
Now they are hunted.
Her prey senses her–
But not fast enough.
Before he can grab her, fangs are deep in throat, ripping
flesh and jugular. The taste of copper
–red, thick, viscous–
on her tongue.
She spits the poison from her mouth.
More demons lurk nearby at a party;
They aren’t her goal tonight.
A rally is near.
Leaping through trees, the scent grows
stronger, and settles in the pit
of her stomach.
There are so many gathered tonight.
But she really only cares about one.
He blathers from the podium, hate-filled
nonsense leaving his lips and evoking cheers
from the fear-blind, hate-sated crowd.
She’s on the stage; security can barely
see her as she slinks along invisible
as the feline goddess vibrates within her.
Nothing but rage as the words echo
“You just grab them by the pussy”
and she flashes back to the boy,
he raped her
and her father, he
blamed her and the men
all rise to defend the monster that stands
right there, just two feet away, now.
Oh, yes, tonight
Pussy fights back.