Unladylike

unladylike smoke rolled under her hat,

the perfect friend with a blind eye’s mind.

unladylike, horniness for the end of the world

hanging on then mirroring my last three words.

we shared apocalypse porn and profound lessons.

people drift bouncing between multiple subspaces,

oscillating around trapped in a single soundscape.

people drift apart and friendships dwindle in seasons,

imagine life without mental images no end for reasons

of how one dreams with aphantasia. smoke clears.

the entire universe is structured by quantum static.

her unusual blindness makes a highly creative.

people drift from the absurd three consequences:

revolt, freedom, passions to live a life of grace.     

people rift on the zoom inside their personal space;

protests, pandemics, and prudence give us grace.

anxious, yet, hopeful, we are the people rethinking

unladylike iron and wine... come naked as we are.

did she catch the drift that has now turned into a rift?

breaking all the rules going braless, enlightening. 

social, status consciousness, tiny acts of resistance

the perfect imagination, a moving picture in my mind,

unladylike perfection in arms of divine feminism. 

double exposure playing with philosophy in film.

unladylike in the summer without superheroes,

slurping oysters in a mignonette sauce we pucker

unladylike adding to the list of women in revolt.

tell her why no cigars, no poison pill for salvation,

unladylike claim your space above all the turmoil.