PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I. 

Halted from the door, a cosmetic tool-
box rattles.

She grants it air. Inside, a glossy

magazine flaps open with idol gossip,

Dior-sample, V-Slims-graffiti'd wings,

savagely against Venus.

The claws sting but secrete a narcotic

residual.

         "Moi!" she exclaims, jerking out
a caulk gun and aiming it over 'er
denounced cheek. "These mentioned
imperfections will vanish!"

II.

Venus brings 'er French pedicured feet
up to the plate. Like a land mine, it booms
numbers voiced solely in euphemisms.
As if affected, the cabinet mirror refuses
to air the E! channel. Regardless, she plays
dress-up backstage until a crowd rumbles.

As she tip-taps on, a grinning spectator
darts forth as if hired on-the-spot to be
the dungeon's escape artist doorman,
or rather, the con artist stealing a glance
at a set o' fresh breasts 'n commodities.

But in response, Venus wets 'er lip, shrugs
'er shoulder, 'n fingers 'er V-Secret bra
strap and puffs a pillow talk-suggestive

thank you.