Popeye's Gal
Not what you’re used to, am I
A far cry from the wild and wooly gals
a horrified vestigial virgin ravaged by time am I.
Not what you’re used to.
Am I?
Not what you’d ever thought could exist
in a package so mixed
of pink metal nails and kittens tails.
Not what you’re used to, am I.
A cosmic leap into the proximity of dichotomy
The Yin hole in the Yang’s sperm like shape.
Am I the beginning to your end?
Not what you’re used to
I am.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment