Thursday, July 15, 2010

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.

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6 Comments:

Blogger Dee Martin said...

Saucy Lita had me snapping my fingers and tapping my feet. Her cousin lovely Rita meter maid had her nose up in the air - she don't have nothing to do with the ribaldry or hoi polloi but she might be missing out on some good times.

6:21 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Dee: Definitely thought of Sister Rita with this ditty. No ribald hoi polloi for Rita? Girl was a meter maid: I believe she started the good times!

8:56 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

I guess I have Tang Dynasty water goddesses on the brain, with a smidgeon of "Beowulf" and Grendl's mother. A very cool poem that just flows along with a rapacious appetite. Love it!

12:49 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Appetite, for sure, and plenty of it. I think she's still hungry, even after the poem.

10:31 AM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Watch your fingers and toes...

8:12 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Teresa: Will do. Headed for the beach on Monday; have to double-watch!

12:04 AM  

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