on death, and appearances.

Americana exotica :
pin me down
just
to watch me struggle
and your laugh-lines
crease
as I beat my wings.

that blue luster
that
iridescent sheen
will fade
as your poisoned tack
works through my
helpless -hapless- shell.

as I lay diminishing
my laugh-lines
will be last
for the glass
may hold in my beauty,
my life,
but my spirit soars above


Rosa 'American Beauty' :
scented on the surface,
a pale pink touch,
a silken brush,
a million interwoven pieces.

but rot underneath.
the roots that
nourish my seemly bud
are cold
and dank
stripping minerals
from the earth
and depleting it as I grow tall
and tall
and tall.

but little do I know
that as I rob the
soil
of its blood
- - -
I rob myself
of my only source.

my greed
causes my demise.

what a fitting end to
beauty of the face.

Equus caballus :
that's right,
rope me to this sullen
pen.
I gain my food from a rusty bucket
no longer from the rich
green fields.
I go only as
you please.

but, unbeknownst,
my young man steals me away
some nights.
when the moon is full
he takes me to glittering pastures.

his fingers tickle over my sweaty coat,
his practiced
hands
soothe me
and
his deep, deep moans,
coming from the part
most men have not,
fill the
midnight air.

chain me
but this boy
sets me free.