Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Ruby Carriage

Breathe in that atomic fog, dear.

Don’t be embarrassed as we grope your eyebrows.

Let that pride melt under your tongue.

You need to get ready for the clam bake.

Check that beat; check that pressure, under pressure?

We’ll slip you a mickey for that frazzled hair.

Calm the frizz, calm the nerves

Blast the weight, baby, show those curves

Never mind those probes that monitor your every thought,

Steal your identity, remove your blood.

Nitro in your ear and possum nectar in your veins

Will make you pretty,

Match with your botulism pout.

Don’t worry about your husband.

He’ll be so proud of the way you attract those men

With tubes and glue and tape and tenderness.

Wave that ultrasound wand over that gown

To add the final magic touches.

One last blast of nuclear hairspray

Over that gunpowder veil

Will beautify your every orifice

With a faint green mist in all your glowing glory.

One last atomic boost will brighten your eyes,

Allow you to see it all:

Those dynamite deals behind the drapes.

Embrace your date,

Meet your mystery fate.

1 comment:

  1. Gone. Absolutely gone, my wonderfully trippy cousin. Gone and tragically beautiful. Well said. Well said.