| she sit before the mirror, hanging mirrors on her
|
| ears and spreads the spraypaint on the haystack that
|
| she calls her hair. |
| She fills a crack, prepares her
|
| nails like blood-dipped spears (they're dripping!)
|
| Smears the lipstick, licks her lips and slips inside
|
| her leopard skin--a plunging 'v' from neck to knees,
|
| but nothing’s seen, it’s just suggested. |
| Tonight she’ll
|
| make a plea for starving whales and heart disease
|
| in trees. |
| She’s on T.V., she’s longing for a 10 from
|
| presentation, application, lubrication; |
| she’d do any-
|
| thing. |
| .. anything to win. |
| And Yang and Yin, the
|
| juggling twins, come spinning past her door to mild
|
| applause and 5.4s and cleaning floors 'til lights
|
| out. |
| Funny Murray taps his worry beads and reads
|
| the Tarot. |
| She looks around and sneers. |
| No com-
|
| petition, superstition. |
| Blind ambition. |
| She’d do any-
|
| thing to win. |
| And 834's her lucky number. |
| .. |