Fussy budget

My dear friend Mike took one of my poems from a back issue of his magazine Mythic Delirium and threw it up for the wide world to see:

This Illusion of Flesh

I like the sea monster illustration.

This is one of those poems that if you asked me to tell you what it means, I would cock my head to the side and slit my eyes. It means what it says, right?

It arose from a pretty crabby place, but if you wish, you can picture me writing it dressed like Frank-n-Furter at the end of Rocky Horror, in torn fishnets and a glitter corset with eyeliner running down my face, singing “don’t dream it – be it.”

Rocky HorrorAlthough you know I would never put up with shoes so uncomfortable.

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