The Blind Date

Arranged by an extremely ex-friend
this blind date, how I wish I were blind!

“He loves me…”

Dress:
Stinging citrus
day-glo splatters
of blobs and globs
hurled in hatred.

“he loves me not…”

Nose:
Chewed and mangled
soccer field sod
bulbous and beaded,
a single hair sprout
begging a “plink.”

“he loves me…”

Hair:
Permed and puffed
dandelion dry
seed head
blowball.

“he loves me not…”

Hat:
A Tropical platter
of piled spilling fruits
and ostrich plumes.
Waving palm trees in
plastic splendor,
dripping and drooling
engulfing her head
in lion tamer finale’.

“he loves me…”

Harpy:
Girlishly
plucking petals,
she flutters mascara lashes
shadowed in shifting berries.
Silently I pray for this finish,
a phlegm rattle giggle of:

“…he loves me not!”