Spying Her Flamingo
Frigid, she is,
ice forms like
lace around
around her
legs.
I have an
astral mirror
that feed
her images
to me,
where I
spy her
flamingo.
I am an
Inca
priestess
probing for
her cosmic
favors.
I've built
my lavender
temple
closest to
the heavens,
where they
can decipher
riddles of
her passionless
lack of libido.
She used to
have a pier
where I could
just drop in my
line and bring
up her fish.
Her Albacore tuna,
so plentiful.
Criticizing those
of us who
can ...
AND WILL.
Copyright 2005 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
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Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
perhaps it will return tomorrow and criticize its own dismay
luv the critical validity of this poem ...