The Web Poetry Corner - M A Heathcote - Red-roaring foot-tapping jukebox
Red-roaring foot-tapping jukebox
M A Heathcote
Starlight..., is the milk breast of human dreams.
Like a harlot in the fingering thighs of leaves.
A rootless compendium with nonstop needs
A straw sucked flower once more turning to seed,
She is the dewdrop ember once hewn, minute.
Hanging there by the willows red root,
To poor into view a dead stone Neptune’s fruit.
She is a black olive crushed into life’s oily kiss.
Hers where he whispers the living clays hiss...
She is a room of death a room of disease.
A broken empire on her fruit baring knees,
She is a fissure a Cadillac’s busted front fender.
Who needs a knight on a roadster?
On that route 666’ who’ll defend her
She is a red-roaring foot-tapping jukebox.
A lyrical sea, which numbs dead brain cells into Xerox!
As you light-speed to her forget me not’s
Her forget me not eternal, needs...,
Turning engines ever over into seed...,
On your own two fruit stoned ball-baring knees.