What a gorgeous day!
I haven’t even left
the house—I just know!
Call it feminine telepathy.
Call it specialesqueish.
Speaking of, check out the inner
red folds of my robe…I know!
Right?! I’s fucking gorgeous today!
Ask the cat. My hair’s yoked
with importantly difficult to-dos
like that pearl-decked turban
from I Love Lucy that was six feet tall
and weighed 5000 pounds.
Hold your head up, Lucy!
A queen bees starts the size
of a worker! What does she do
to grow a body big enough
to populate a world? Does she take
lots of pictures of her own face and SHARE them?
Does she LIKE her own face?
What song does she sing in the video?
Is it about the hive—a Versailles
of golden chambers—or
herself? What words does she
memorize? “My car eats oats.
My mascara is not made of
murdered elephants
and neither are my brats.
I deserve the air of others.
My natural beauty’s mirrored
in the sticky tips of pine needles
and scales of all the salmon.”
That’s deep! Oh, dangit—
it’s raining. I must call
the credit card company.
Yes, they’ll put me on hold,
but I’ll put them on speaker!
I’ll be gorgeous in the in-between time—
rage filling in all the sharp
edges of my bones!
Jennifer L. Knox
poemsinwhich.wordpress.com 