THE PROCESS OF PREDATION

(WARNING: the following post contains non-graphic sexuality and attempted poetry. Proceed at your own risk.)

Yeah, buddy
Your eyes aren’t lyin’
That’s a fifteen year old girl
over there
sittin’ down
with her underwear
sticking out the back of her pants.

That’s all it takes, right?
One hint that she’s
wearing something under her clothes
gave a thought about
what she felt like wearing today
knows she’s got all the female body parts
and probably knows what they’re for–
that’s all you need, right?

‘Cause from here, it’s pretty easy.

Since you can see her panties
that must give you the right
to imagine
what she looks like
with ‘em off
and what she might like to do
if they were.

Go ahead.
Full meal deal.
Just make her naked in your head–
not nude,
naked
vulnerable
but willing
like you want her to be.

Follow the lines:
the resilient roundness of her breasts
the gentle radius of her belly
the complex curves of her buttocks
the acute angles of her legs.

You want to see it all.
No Gap
No Abercrombie
No Nike
No Hanes Her Way
Just how God sent her into the world.

You want to be her first
so (at least for a little while)
you can be her best.

And maybe you won’t have to worry
about all that icky womanly stuff
like feelings
committments
the future
and all that other BS.

Just you
and a naive girl
who can’t help but think
that you’re the sex god
you wish you were.

She’ll have to do
whatever you want her to
because what does she know
from good sex?

What does she know
about what she wants
who she is
how people are supposed to treat her?

Nothin’! She’s fifteen!
The only thing
she knows how to do and
the only thing
she cares about
is how she looks–
and what you think about
how she looks.

Right?

They’re all the same,
these teen girls.
Only thing they’re hoping for
is a man
a real one to show them
what being a woman
is all about:
It’s all about
pleasing a man and
being the sort of fifteen year old girl
who walks around with her underwear showing
is a dang fine way to start.

Right?

And I see you watching her.
I see more than that.

I see what you miss the most–
what you can never have–
and that’s the chance
to be fifteen yourself
once again.

Now it’s all complicated.
A guy your age
can’t just hook up
with young chicks
who only want experiences
and never want relationships.

People your age don’t play
spin the bottle
seven minutes in heaven
doctor

Women your age want a little more
like personalities
character
responsibility
commitment
realism
and all that crap.

That’s why they’re all too saggy
too wrinkled
too psycho
too independent
too needy
too clingy
too fat
too old
for you.

So you keep on waiting
hoping one day
you’ll meet that magic girl
who dreams of nothing but
instant, anonymous sex
with some creep
she met at the mall.

She’s got to be out there.
I mean,
all these girls have websites
where they claim
that’s what they’re looking for.

That’s why they dress like they do–
right?

That’s why they make movies
about those quiet, mousy girls
who really open up
(if you know what I mean)
once some older guy
shows a little interest–
right?

So here you are
hanging out in the mall
with your day
both made and ruined
by the sight of
12% of a $3 scrap of fabric
sticking over the top of a
$60 pair of jeans
on a fifteen year old girl
who is too busy
talking to her friends
and eating her burrito
to notice that
the older man you know she’s seeking
is right over there at the next table
scraping the last bits of General Tso’s chicken
off the front of his shirt.

If she only knew you were there!
Then her awakening would begin!

In the meantime–
when does yours start, buck?