Sunday, August 13, 2006

Interchangeable Goddesses

He built my pedistal
in seven days,
seven nights.

He had a God complex, some said.

Used cement swiped from a site
down the street.
Polished my crown with his tongue.

Honeysuckle vines grew from the sky,
circled my breasts, my thighs.
Elvis left the supermarket
to croon Love Me Tender
each night.
No snake appeared, but

my crown toppled off
and the pedistal crumbled,
tossing me hard to ground.

When I whimpered, he shrugged.
Love can be blind, like
the man begging quarters
on Second Street.

My lover stole those quarters
for a train straight to Georgia,
built a pedistal for a woman
with flames in her hair, howard hughes
toenails gripping the cement,
wondering how long she had
before the swift rains came,
dissolving her own goddess gown
into pools of spangles to float
down some other gal's street

9 comments:

polona said...

i love this one, pris.

erin said...

beautiful. I love the line about elvis!

Pris said...

Thanks, both of you.

Plus Ultra said...

Very good...you definitely dont have any fatigue in your right brain....lovely imagery, very fresh very original, wish I could do the same

Pris said...

What a nice thing to say and you post wonderful things!!!

Pris

Michael Parker said...

I love this! You are so prolific. You amaze me consistantly. Hope you are feeling well.

Pris said...

Hi Michael
I just found your comment. Glad you liked this. I'm trying to get back to more writing. Have been in a writing slump lately.

Ellen M Johns said...

Yes, I've also noticed you have posted some very profound poems lately. So glad you have come out of that slump.
The better for us all to enjoy.

Pris said...

Thanks, Ellen!