The Arrogant Bastard of Time chugged
across her forehead
etching his tracks.
She grew bangs.
The Arrogant Bastard of Time swung
below her upper arms,
stretches of earthbound wings.
She discarded all things sleeveless.
The Arrogant Bastard of Time swiped
through her hair,
paintstrokes of deadened gray.
She dyed it scarlet.
The Arrogant Bastard of Time corroded
her vertebrae, ilium, phalanges,
pre-oiled creakings of the Tin Man.
She embraced glucosomine, chondroitin, and yoga.
The Arrogant Bastard of Time razed
the structures of her mind,
echoing skyscrapers now ghettos.
She. . .
Well done!
ReplyDeleteThe Arrogant Bastard of Time has been here, too.
Yes, he does get around, doesn't he?
Deleteargh.
ReplyDeleteooh yes that time is an arrogant bastard. I think she should have a belvedere martini and forget about him.
ReplyDelete