PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I.



Halted from the door, a cosmetic tool-

box whistles, rattles, 'n' demands use.



Granting it air, a glossy booklet inside

screeches as if disturbed from its cavern

slumber. Its idol gossip, Dior-sample,

V-Slims-graffiti'd wings flap savagely

upon Venus. Its claws sting but secrete

a narcotic residual.

         "Moi!" she exclaims, jerking out

a caulk gun and aiming it over 'er

denounced cheek. "These mention'd

imperfections will vanish!"





II.



Venus brings 'er French pedicured feet

up to the plate. Like a land mine, it booms

numbers voiced solely in euphemisms.

As if affected, the cabinet mirror refuses

to air the E! channel. Regardless, she plays

dress-up backstage until a crowd rumbles.



As she tip-taps on, a grinning spectator

darts forth as if hired on-the-spot to be

the dungeon's escape artist doorman,

or rather, the con artist stealing a glance

at a set o' fresh breasts 'n' commodities.



But in response, Venus wets 'er lip, shrugs

'er shoulder, 'n' fingers 'er V-Secret bra

strap. She puffs a pillow talk-suggestive

"thank you".