Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Boogie Woman comes in between my cell layers at night
She punches me up and charges me up into my fierce fighting mode
I yell and scream my truth and she laughs, gulping my rage and my indignation.
Boogie Woman knows me better than I know myself 
for I was never allowed to have real feelings.

The Big Bad Wolf from Chicago land is lurking 
way back in the recesses of my brain 
Anticipating the best sneaky way to jump our friend 
Russian Connoisseur Paper Bag Man
To make him yelp some Russian phrases we will not understand anyway.
I love the anticipation of when it will happen next, for I am the last to know.
Trixie is the omnipotent oppressor and ruler 
of our mystical whimsical poetry fields.

Boogie Woman slaps my face, and kicks me to the curb. 
I land at her feet, sniffling.
She then lets Trixie have her way with me. 
Trixie is a nipple twister so I am fearful.
Afraid but yet laughing because I am wearing so much armor 
she cannot get me today
I run down Dictionary Alley and log onto my main connector.

I have an enormously large and blue Thesaurus and am not afraid to use it.
Big Bad Wolf coughs, warning me by mere inches. 
He is ahead of me in leaps and bounds, howling at Luna’s light.
Moon magic illuminates our friend Paper Bag Man’s head on the pole of Oz.

What is happening? 
Who is in the control power? 
Trixie laughs, not afraid of wolves or scarecrows.

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