Sunshone, oily old lady, slow
along a melting boulevard
with pink toggle lips,
loony but a propos.
Sheeny shoes, dragging
and dropping her down the boulevard
of dirty sunshine.
She dribbles down the boulevard,
sweat dislodging the shoes,
she attempts to smooth gawky steps
and terribly uncomfortable years.
Just before the boulevard,
I imagine her heartfully applying
that crooked lipstick,
as her wobble arms jig and sway
in the full length mirror.
And then the same arms,
reach gleefully
for the sofa print brocade shoes
now demising her.
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