Incongruity
Slim as a stick, she steps, new-born, from sea,
a black and streaming Venus, child of foam.
Sarong encases her nubility,
her wet sleek hair held by a pearly comb.
She flops the fresh caught squids beside her thigh
and picks a rock to chip a scallop shell.
She squints and tests the edge with thumb and eye
then slits and cleans her catch where blue waves swell.
Ma Belle Sauvage, my Queen, my Goddess rare!
Intent on these, your Mesolithic skills,
you do not see me, here in shade, admire
your wondrous deftness as you clean your kills.
Instead you're rapt in ghetto blaster's spell
with Elvis belting out 'Heartbreak Hotel '
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