Wednesday, September 12, 2012

She by Glenn Armstrong


Her lips are crimson, glossy with paint
As she whispers in your inner ear.
Her timeless voice is immeasurably faint
But you cannot help but hear,
“Money is worthless to the penurious saint.”

Her temple is festooned with skulls and bones
Which dangle and sway to and fro.
Various blood types give the walls different tones;
The attendants shimmer, gibber and glow
And the feast consists of starving roans.

A pendant of the bluest jadeite
Rests between her powdered breasts.
The soul of a holy man who in his fright
Renounced the sacred ritual tests
Is trapped within the mineral and out of sight.

If you hand her an hour, she’ll spit back
A minute. Try and beg her for time
And she’ll give you the rack.
Daily she sups on prose and rhyme
Immortality is something she does not lack.

She’ll squat on your grave and let out a stream
Of disdain and liquor from a crystal chalice.
You are damned to rot slowly, fixed on one dream
Filled with worry, anxiety, boredom and malice
While she distills your soul and laps at the cream.

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