Fairy Women and The Gangster (draft)

She's a fairy woman whose name of fiction is Oregano
a class act is she, of picky intelligence like chop sticks
who else would name herself for a herb
it's why I guess I'm so taken by her.
I like rare more than the weird.

Call themselves after lowly plants?
Ladies of the night would not.
Those heavy on makeup
prefer standard trade names
like Brandy Lilly or the like.

Transvestites call themselves
Cumin, Clove or Garlic?
Don't see it. Maybe Cleo
maybe Nefertiti
maybe Catherine The Great of Reno.

Nuns call themselves, Nutmeg
Cilantro or Cracked Pepper?
No way, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
Their predilection is virtue
like Faith, Hope and Charity
which reminds me of my fourth grade teacher
Sister Chastity --- a 6' 4" lumberjack
who tried to cut me down to size
when I was already dwarf enough.

And the nightmare would've succeeded
had Chastity's authority extended much deeper
than Convent Avenue and its parish.

But there in the mean streets of Vinegar Hill
where its gutters are hardly ever dry
I found comfort and redemption
in the underbelly of petty larceny
By 15, I had murdered any vestige of law-abiding.

Have no fear, I've been retired for almost a year.
Spend my free time in the garden
and around noon I post my musings online
where I have acquaintances throughout,
and that's how I met Oregano, the Fairy Woman

We live in opposite time zones.
When I'm dreaming, she's composing
when she's sleeping, I'm hard at work
fixing to bomb her neurons
by the time she gets up and opens her eyes
and peeks into her e mail account -
She in South East Cape, Tasmania
Me in Chicago, Al Capone's old stomping grounds
Obama's, too, before he moved to Washington