Vase In A Cage

Batter up my puffer fish chops
its time to wield the gin cutlass,
have at you!
Creepy whiskers that crawl on my cheek
drop like soldier ants.

My skin still milky
from the womb,
has youth on its side (just)
as it stretches to hold
the beer ship,
and inky nightmares which
make up my arms.

Vanity cowers among the wrinkles
modesty tied to my tongue.
Good looking
looking to myself,
hole in one in my belly.

Its time to pinch the Adonis
in the mirror,
chop chop you handsome pussy kitten.
Pretty as a hangover
in a sober kind of way.
Gnash like scissors
pass the smile,
lets go chase the lipstick...

@Steven Francis Poems 2002