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.