by Linda Fuller

If I were an ax, I’d split
your goose down the middle
of the testosterone highway

where skulls of chattel litter
the mosquito mesa, ringed
with white clapboard crosses

and belles in the navy
wring the umbilical chord,
striking disharmony in guys

who cry blue tears before
and after smoke politically
correct cigars in daylight.


Posted on 06/04/2010
Copyright © 2024 Linda Fuller

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Max Bouillet on 06/08/10 at 01:57 PM

Testosterone highways --talk about road rage! I like the way you use spitfire imagery to draw comparisons between seemingly unrelated images to create an emotional response.

Posted by H.M Stevens on 01/20/16 at 02:02 AM

wow- this is quite bold...and enticing.

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