Goddess Of The Sirocco Poem by David Kowalczyk

Goddess Of The Sirocco

Rating: 5.0


Thoth concocted her
from his three
favorite adjectives.

Calefactory.
Harumscarum.
Mordacious.

Each of these,
magnified by the others,
sculpts her.

She is the messiah
whom your parents
once crucified.

Her heart is a
magical blue ice,
the frozen tears
of saints.

Her lips are more sensuous
than two copperheads in heat.
Her eyes, two wise blue wounds
which never close, were stolen
from an eagle.

She eats only Spam.
She speaks Urdu, Sanskrit,
and Aramaic.

Made from three words,
yet known by three dozen names.
Pity that none will ever be hers.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Johnny Scrotum 26 August 2008

Awesome, dude! You must have been on acid when you wrote this!

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David Kowalczyk

David Kowalczyk

Batavia, New York
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