She is a social animal.
Party rat. Very territorial.
She likes to swing and do boogie,
In her throwback dress and with her updo she looks matronly.
She is old and dates guys ten years her junior, younger maybe,
And they are interested more with her money.
They listen to her stories, as a child to his mother
Reading to him Hansel and Gretel.
Her hands feel as though the years have had coarse stories of her to tell.
You mess her up, you mess up big time:
She has connections—
Influential, invincible, corrupt political friends.
The biggest of all misconceptions:
She is a slut, an old, spray net-stinking slut.
The truth is, she is not less than you and me.
Lusting for that fresh, raw love, she is like everybody.
We pray for that one love that waters the youth in us,
That completes our puzzles, that douses the fiery fence of our morass,
And that makes happy respiration crazy easy.
Men and women, no age-related exceptions.
We all are cougars in a sense.
Perhaps only slightly.



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