Thirteen Does the Watusi
Dancing in the widow peak, doing the watusi as only hair knows how to do
The flamingo pinked up in face and beak, annoying man and dog.
Prancing along comfortably, her light blue eyes laughed and whistled.
Beyond caring how the masses would perceive her pleasured craziness.
Craziness inspired by unicorn breath that danced among flowers and song.
Sight unseen, but heard and often, in the bowels of the juice box breathers.
Nose tried to go along, but had a mind of her own which was reluctant.
Resilient certainly, as her face was proud in its persistent preservation.
Masses did not care, did not know, did not imagine or care about her in the least.
Also thirteen, the year of the superficial dragon, creature and all-knowing beast.
Fired up, dancing carelessly as teenagers do whose brains are on fire,
The flamingo laughed, issuing orders, dainty whispers echoing in her nose hairs.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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