To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Joan Pond's previous piece To Joan Pond's next piece
Not Forthcoming I say to myself, 'Never again!' No more jumping through hoops or running when he calls. Yet when his Bentley pulls in and the driver lets him out, my heart pounds. I see his bag of tricks, filled with lotions, potions and a riding crop or two. He'll neatly arrange the night stand. Methodically undressing and expecting the same of me. We're tightly scripted and haven't much time and so I perform as a circus act. But such spontaneity doesn't easily come to me.
To the top of this page