The roadside verges buzz with rumours.
Every blade of grass angles itself my way,
greening with envy as my lithe, milk-saturated stem
reaches for the sky. I have arrived!
And how they sigh to see my bracts and yellow ray florets
And how they gasp when finally my can-can skirt
explodes in one orgasmic burst of brassy light.
I twerk and twirl with irrepressible vulgarity.
I am a million-dollar blonde, a stunner;
Dolly Parton, Marilyn Monroe, Madonna,
all rolled into one. Gaze on my goldenness
and be amazed!
A motorbike, a sportscar and a courier van
swerve wildly on the road, bedazzled by the blaze.
The sun concedes he’s been upstaged:
You ain’t seen nothing yet, he tells the jealous world.
Give her a hundred days. When time has made her old
she will be lovelier yet, believe you me.
So round and soft, so powder-puff, so lace-and-froth.
She’ll blow the lot of you away. Just wait and see.
If you have any
thoughts on this poem, Annie
Fisher would be pleased to hear them.