on a shelf, her lines are drawn;
mythic creatures' transit code,
in reams of caustic form:
head and fore limb of an antelope,
trunk of wardrobe; hunted down
through low rent fashion outlet,
arrows pierce bargains.

She almost caught the Minoxid,
where male-patterned baldness glowed;
the fathered bird of Jove,
chasing wild disproportionate prey
on sordid boulevard,
to null or retirement,
the skull will decide.

She ensnared the louse,
then immersed the louse
in every potion marketed;
creamed the aisles, scooping the royalty
of fondant miracles,
packing every crevice
in an echt éclair of youth

applied with cottoned pollices
and third degree savagery.
She dreamt new toxins;cremated
dirt ball's trail, not content 'til sanity
of louse was cauterised:
carnal bark, wrapped in flypaper,
waiting for the dawn squall.