Her pickle 

When like a loose feather

With her plume of iridescence 

She floats and twirls

Harshly torn and tethered

Amidst ambivalence

to the East fair man comes

to the west wealthy man awaits

to the north there lays her mascara 

to the four winds all

And to the pith her limp factual

divided right between 

Where to go up and where to go down 

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2 thoughts on “Her pickle 

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