The Lottery of Stars

The Lottery of Stars 


The great payoff is over.
Turn your mirror 
to the caterwauls 
of Satan’s bride 
if superbly round breast 
and two weeks’ 
vacation in the azure 
with Circe were your goal. 

Death has a first, 
second, and third prize 
in the lottery of stars: 
a rare rump, a magical orb 
sweetly rolling around 
your arm pits, and clouds 
on their way home 
along the seashore. 

The streets sing as well, 
to hydrocephalic 
politicians reeking 
of a haunt, a way
to bring back jobs.

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