BLACK LIGHT

 
have you read the book of lies
such a comfort
to know how acceptable we are
like well placed silverware
as long as i keep moon shadow
in a cellar box shut tight
where little cocka demons
play unuttered
you can't hear them rustling about
but
i shake little bats and owls from my socks

am i lookin congenial today
just a teensy icky inside
bubbles in the belly
clinched toes in crowded shoes
eek
hope i'm not alive by accident

my graciousness plastered on
like white sheep over a goat
to get what i need of course
to make friends and influence
sorry
about my ti ti ticks
the way my fi fi fingers fi fi fidget

my towels are folded
and in place
vanilla cup cakes with sprinkles
all in a row
like little ballerinas prancing
as plutonic volcanoes heat
like spires pandemonium

my life a white glove inspection
all pressed and starched
like a mythic poem
written by a virgin
stiff with holiness
as saints float over my head
yet the world
for all my good
a thunderous
black light
a poem about the struggle between who we are and our face to he world