refuses to be refused or refuse
while her rubber mouth sews words
like dunderhead, and dung beetles center
daily meditations in dead leaves, industry
for nothing, black munchers firing
up decay in the sun’s macrowave,
slipping the new moon out of an old skin.
She is homely as a new-hatched duckling.
Smart as an old boa, she grabs you
till your fingers turn
cyanotic. She wraps red snapper
with banana leaves, unmoved,
while a jaguar
sneaks up behind her.
As she unmoors her rusty tub, her
rag of a boat, and reels in the sails,
you see her brunette locks are the wind,
how her skirt covers the sky with lightning.