Cat Walk

Image Courtesy of Dragi Le Muse and from his Private Collection and to whom all rights thereto are reserved and to the Photographer

I walk the catwalk

I wait in the wings

I pause behind the curtain

then ascend the stair.

I stare straight ahead

pretend to be a mannequin

mimicking a wire hanger

but which is lethal as I

seduce and ensnare

framing my body.

But this work

is cold and lifeless.

I'm used and in despair

and my beauty belies it.

I wear it as an iron mask

and after a while

- boring, the pauses -

gyrating my hips

rolling my hair

down the small of my back,

showing off my wear

to tired old men

long past their sell by date

but enjoying the thrill.

Cold I have become

as cold as the mask,

but my eyes are on fire

and the money is good.

Does the devil wear Prada?

Does that really exist?

. . .Yes. . .

Out here on the catwalk!

And do we get to pull?

. . .Yes. . .

But beware to he that pulls!

Do not become ensnared

on a six inch high heel!!

Kenneth Thomas Webb
Liverpool

December 30, 2021
All Rights Reserved

United Kingdom - Austria - Germany - Australia - New Zealand - Canada - USA

© Kenneth Thomas Webb 2021

One of the Fifteen Founding Members of Leaders Lodge

Written June 8, 2009 in Liverpool observing, backstage, the choreography, the Models quietly and often, suddenly, slipping into that ice-like stance that is their armour, their lure, their Raison d'être.

 Republished January 27, 2014

Aired afresh February 26, 2020


Last shown January 5, 2021