Visions of Noise

I like a woman Who wears perfume Elegant but inexpensive clothes As much as one who can kill A plain tee and blue jeans I like a woman Who can drive a stick-shift Pick-up truck As well as one who can ride A bike or a scooter I like a woman Who can wear a prudish Long dress As much as I would One who wears a prurient skirt I like a woman Who doesn't flinch At the recoil of a 45ACP As much as one who can drive A tack with a fletchette I like a woman Who'd carry a blade on her hip Parry a blow with her bare hands And knock a guy down But patch him up after I like a woman Who can wear pumps As much as she'd be comfy In sneakers Or jungle boots I like a woman Who can fix up a good meal Handy in the garden Caring for the kids And tidy around the house I like a woman Who can listen to me Whine about the world Or wax poetic When my mind wanders I like a woman Who lets me take care of her As much as she attends to me At times when I can't  Do that much for myself I like a woman ...

It was a Saturday but for some reason, she showed up for work. She promised him they'd celebrate his birthday together. He was turning 26 that day but as a freelance photojournalist, he was also working on a weekend. He was covering an event that involved the presentation of a kilometer-long sausage by an organization of chefs and other hotel kitchen staff from all over the city. His team was commissioned to document the parade and make a short video presentation for the chefs. He was both nervous and excited not about the gig but because he was having lunch with her after the press coverage. He was up early that day having been tossed like a salad the night before. His long, curly hair tied in a braid so as not to impede his filming of the event. Since the team was meeting up at the hotel where she worked, he figured they could have breakfast together. She agreed and came down to have a cup of coffee with him. They spent about half an hour talking about the last two weeks since he...