image borrowed from bing
Yes, Alice, Poets Do Have Balls
“A dress makes no sense unless it inspires men
to want to take it off you.”--Francoise Sagan.
as bad boy Banksy, wearing
Ray Ban silver goggles, paint-smeared gloves
with no fingers, with his mohawk
moussed straight up, with
red tips like cock Chanticleer;
he had three 10 foot wide canvasses
already painted like the sides of buildings,
& he was busy with his paint cans
creating graffiti art
that had Israeli fighter jets
dueling with Hamas rocket launchers,
while Obama & other heads of state
stood by wrapped in their country’s flags.
Claudia came as Zenobia,
the rebel Queen of Tadmor,
paramour to Simon, the son of Barrabas,
tall & tanned, shirtless, & on her arm;
her gilded crown was offset
by a large ruby in her navel, accenting
her tight & toned tummy. She held court
over in a corner in front of her easel,
where she painted watercolor caricatures
of the guests.
Bjorn came as hero Gideon Sunback, who
invented the modern prototype
for the zipper, wearing
a very tall felt top hat &
a very tight red leather jump suit
that was covered with 100 multi-colored zippers, whose
heads tinkled like fairy tunes
as he pranced around giving
out those delicious Marabou Swedish chocolate bars.
Glenn came as a Thracian gladiator,
with a wide leather belt barely encasing his bulk,
his bulging waist trussed but still ample, his hairy
chest properly salted with age, with leather wrist
straps laced up with cat gut,
carrying a small shield on his left shoulder,
& a short rubber-tipped Roman
gladius on his right hip, working
the room, saying to everyone--
“Hi, I am Spartacus, how you doin’ ?”
Gay sat on plush red & yellow cushions playing her guitar,
warbling Joni Mitchell,
Joan Baez &
Carol King tunes, dressed
like a hippy goddess in a bright tie-dyed khafkan
& a long earthen brown flowing skirt,
with fresh flowers in her hair; with a small crowd
of admirers gathered at her bare feet.
Victoria came as Florence Nightgale, with
the crimson red cross
on her starched white nurse’s cap,
perfectly matching the red of
the short velvet cape she wore;
sitting demurely at a red card table,
signing & giving away copies of
WINTER HAS PAST &
THE SIN OF HIS FATHER.
Laurie was in a beach outfit, wearing
a wide brimmed straw hat, with
a golden ribbon as its hat band,
over-sized pink sunglasses,
sequined lip gloss, with
a well-worn Texas A&M tank top
over her green bikini top
& the shortest shorts one could imagine; sitting
on a blue couch
hob-knobbing with everyone
who strolled by; talking all about
how she was fixin’ to publish a new book real soon.
Shanyn was there too, dressed up like Annie Oakley,
carrying her Red Ryder air rifle, feeding
her Shetland Palomino pony,
carrots & oats out of a chrome bucket, offering
free rides to everyone’s kids, her own laugh
so infectious, the place erupted with the delectable
bubbly laughter of dozens of children.
Yeah, I think everyone made an appearance.
Joe was there dressed up like Jim Bridger, letting
everyone play with his black powder muzzle-loader.
Mary had her three canine companions,
all on jeweled leashes, & they were wagging their butts
as they kiss-licked all the newcomers at the door.
Tony was in a kilt, wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat.
Man, when would this boisterous reverie
ever end? It has been going on for three days
now--it will probably last
362 more days.
That’s the rumor,
& I’m sticking to it.
Posted over on dVerse Poets 3rd Anniversary Ball
Would you like to hear the author read this poetic lark to you?