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.