esther
By townee

persian...
prussian...
such subtle differences

adele is pregnant again, they say;
as a peacock has the devil's eyes.

there's a cyclops
atop every feather.

a rainbow,
now a tornado.

bric-a-brac galaxies;
aren't stars illuming,
immodest peepholes into
this spotty goddess kitchen?

or planets, that once held moons close,
polish dust-rings; and hypnotize mediums;

magnetize air, flying a portiere; with its
lacey fabric frozen, sometimes more than stone.

lighting a hall;
walls textured; distant
doorway; an absinthe soiree;

a demon coterie, shadow; & fish
nestle in the mud of those shallows.

she burps humans,
at her strapping shoulders,
naked & white. tests for your color blindness.

the weak chin is lipless; eggs; hell
riling through a night like wildfire. chest; chair;
face; waving arms; muscles group, move;

break necks
of wicker snakes.

you sit,
on your feet,
imperial saltlick.

stamp, wax, poetic; nobly seal
the black-coiffed jewish lobotomy.

Thanks for the contribution, Townee!