poem: blue cast

Saucy Lita,
in her trim
produce spare:
touching the Superfood,
angling by the whichways,
forever dime-ing
the Aquadome:
She finagles
the down & out,
outing the down,
downing the out,
blowing the cover
of tadpole & like.
Centering prayer
giveth the hives, but
broadens the view:
she claims sanctuary
for the incubus,
vigorously debarring
the Anglican whetha
(she knows betta:
she is, after all,
a polyphonic getta).
in her youngers,
datapoint busty,
she knew the brew:
tween me 'n you,
she was ever
the bane
of the hoity toity,
galvanizing the hoi polloi:
in her vegetarian coffeehouse
she was splendor aplenty,
capitalizing anarchy
with the best,
divesting synonyms,
fermenting eponyms
in her tangled blue
cast-iron ribaldry:
she knows the flame.
proterandry
sho ain't
her game.