She had a tongue the colour
Of thick, slow-poured molasses—
And when the men would cull her
She would utter black masses.
She would dress herself in words
And backmask her black intent
As she split men into thirds—
Two for the road and one gent’.
She liked her men well—well—read;
She would tie up the premise
With thick, ashen, asphalt thread—
She was called H.E. Ellis.