With an elongate rather wet smile, she just likes to look! But she's a lady
who creeps through the clouds,in her strapless and shawl
and brooks no lies
And to judge by skin tone and way she hates to face us, her oily palms up in prayer
she's sometimes a St. Therese The cheeks bulge with jack cheese when she says nothing
& parsley sticks to her teeth
Shorelines grow eerie down the length of the beach
when she is near And stretched over the sands, she likes to follow in tides
with her big seedy eye & fuss around rocks and thistles til she's lost in a fog
She blows out the stars, too
If she only had 'em, she'd probably stand with legs apart,
looking imperious and cute, like a wife with wavy hair tied up in a shiny grey bun
Who is she?
(2017)