Monday, January 15, 2018
“Found a Peanut”
her sweating mix
“It was Rotten.”
of twilit arms, legs,
vapored curses!
“Ate it anyway.”
Matured to
BREATHTAKING!
Thus far, 2
suicides in her wake,
3 leavers of organic wives,
with their organized lives.
She’s just warming up.
What done to spur such
heated outcomes?
Not much of anything.
Vital as example
of sheerest beauty,
she faintly learns
to do
as little
as possible.
Since you die anyway.
As many did last night.
And every night.
Labels: beauty, death, Fatal Woman, femme fatale, Jump Rope, Jump Rope Rhymes
