ur mother was redheaded                                                 angel;
the firmament rose in a talking
Playtex bra & I burned it down;
there were thousands spread
not into the sea like plastic                                           princesses
but like the prime mover
the salamanders plagued
the countryside; the sinkhole going first
we kept our fists grip on the
witches dry throats;


The first white queen
is an angel no one is looking for yet;                                                          

                                            unknown
to those who live above the water
on the island's hot sands;
where she lay tanning                                  on the steamy green land
of Erin's mankind;

she whose face is forever
unseen & unknown all these
years even to her crystal                                              mother's
line footsteps &
these are her white lips
ruddle & pink on the inside
w/ ochre like Stone Age
               Femme Fatale

the sonic stars are triangular;
trilling angels
****** outward
to retrieve her saucy sonnets,
Becky stands
in the doorway
of the cabana in a one-piece;
leaning over the red well & drinking
from the idle golden cup ****** back
in time

where Guinevere's ugly sisters laugh
is where I roll boulders over the                                        whole
of white Guinevere in her
sun shower slowly crushing her