Mad Chicks Cool
A mad chick is a bloodstain on a white skirt.
She has no mother of her own but gave birth
to herself in a shell or a dustbin. Every time
you cut off the head of a mad chick, two more
sprout in her place. Men want to fuck us
but wouldn’t spit on a mad chick if she
was on fire. Right now, a mad chick
is cosying up to your girlfriend on a velvet
chaise longue. Your new boss is a mad chick,
perhaps your mother was a mad chick
which is why you hate them now. Watch out,
the mad chicks are in the street outside,
ripping up the pavement with their tombstone
teeth, smashing shop fronts with their wings,
now there is nothing in this world that can stop them.
first published in Gin & Tonic (The Poetry Business, 2017), © Phoebe Stuckes 2017, used by permission of the author.