My muse is the music of the spheres
Corrine works in the bank
As an Assistant Manager.
Her job is to stand
And greet people who prefer to
Stand in line
Rather than use the drive-through.
Corrine sometimes talks
To customers who want to
Rent a safe deposit box
When all the male
Assistants are out to lunch
Or are playing golf.
Corrine had to deal
With a groping male Assistant
At the bank Christmas party.
She pretended to lick his ear
But bit off his ear lobe.
It was never seen again.
The Woe-Man of Legend
Smiled that night.
Corrine’s father, Samuel,
Beat her when she cried,
Though she was only three years old.
He was a harsh,
Cruel sod,
Who was forgiven by the priest.
Father Mendel, the slimy,
Cared not for children,
But only for men and Scotch.
Corrine remembered these two
And drew their pictures for herself.
When she could write, she added their names.
Thus, began her journal
Of men who had wronged her.
They would pay in later years.
Mendel shot her a glance
That ripped her soul
Into bits
No larger than confetti.
Corrine dissolved into
Glutinous blobs
Of manically despairing
Woman who was wronged.
But then she pulled
Herself together and
Slapped the bastard
Into tomorrow’s hedge trimmings.
Corrine was cursed.
Cursed to be the strong bold Woe-Man
Of Legend!
