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Amun-Ra
Revlon Lips
Revlon lips poised for pickles,
Popsicles or stiff competition.
On such a sultry day,
perspiration pours over
soft flesh mounds and drips
in tedious regularity
onto her gym bought abs.
It sits there in her navel Jacuzzi
bubbling in the torrid Texas sun.
Skin shining like a Spielberg morph,
lava glowing and oozing into the mold,
a white hot ingot of brazen ore
awaiting the heavy sledge
eager for its crushing pound.
Ninety-pound weakling sun
cannot compete with supernova
flesh stretched from head to Hawaii
A tropical isle blooms beneath
the whirlpool filled with waterfalls,
dark crevasses and fruit forbidden
except to eat awaits in the garden.
The jungle is ripe and full as
the sun falls impotent upon the
its verdant canvass shield.
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