Finola Scott


What I like about Slappers
is their careless noise, their baying
and swaying all night sashaying,
their red raw rammy. Hey -see me!

What I don’t like is that label.
Ogling onlookers lick lips & judge.
Jackets, mouths, minds, buttoned
tight, vinegar sour in quick condemnation.

What I love about Slappers
is their slap. Shiny-lipped, swivel
-hipped, primed, plucked & primped.
These Brazen Brazilians always score.

What I don’t like is their laughing
vulnerability, their roller-coaster
risks, their reckless nonchalance,
the scorning denial of danger.

What I do like is their defiant
no-holds barred hen-night hoolies,
their high heeled prancing dancing,
their bare legged cheek.

What I don’t like is the easy blame
of these sisters, daughters, mothers,
the tutting absolution of body blows, of rape.
What I hate about Slappers is
the word.



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