and i think it’s outta sight

he is gnomic +wears fuchsia glasses owns a home
tall +Victorian little shop of horrors? bursting flowers
all things Alice
my brother says he is grooming me possibly to be the
catwoman to his gnomeman he’s trying to get you into
his lair ape that’s his M.O.🧌
i used to sit on a bench across from said lair listenin to
hurtin cowboys +faded rockers most dying or dead now
i cannot sit there as capedcrusader appears almost magically
like those tiny red ants currently swarming my bed🐜🐜🐜
but the chiaroscuro is finer near his haunt my white boots
soft+cowgirl take me there all on their own flirtatious old
woman M.O.

yesterday the smallish man in pink glasses invited me in
there were pulleys+puddings and faded dreams in a corner
Go Go boots are back bitches! mine now splayed
__
Summer of Love .. do take note re: the upbeat flavour of this poem..🌞🌻

