Burninshed crystal.

Another one of your 

Haunches shilling burnished crystal 

in midst of the media darlings dark nest

startling nose caught the scent 

Of declining runways 

I would rather fake idea’s of love

Than get tarred in pillow 

Fighting over loose feathers.


Understand If you hadn’t made 

a perfumed Mess out of capturing 

Seaweed cells on hearted plates 

We wouldn’t  be watching you Sliding 

through bars of fire and cane

The Movements of those giving their names

to street corners in a hundred degrees.


It’s offerings too gentry bodiced 

With draped legs a concubine of charms

Kitty got a gum ball machine

Freshly shaved everyday through 

Eighths of suppressed bathing weather.