Posted: September 30, 2010 in Poetry
Tags: ,

The First Lady of Cool

was my eleventh cousin

twelve times removed

from simple realities

she preferred

three-headed catpeople

to television or marriage

she was a mover

in closed circles

elephant riders

and unknown poets

she covered her walls

with empty frames

thought out loud

about psychotic equations

and fixed her flavored lipstick

in an antique mirror

she found while diving

in the president’s Jacuzzi


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