Trippy wears a top hat.
Tips it, flippy, floppy,
slipping back and forth
on greasy hair.
There’s nothing else,
no clothes, no skin –
tissue torn and muscles thin,
entrails surge and splay as
Trippy plays his game
upon the noisy stage.
Tap-shoes stuck
on bleeding stumps,
a grim and lush parade.
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Love it, Lily. I always enjoy your gruesome characters :)
ReplyDeleteLove the gay carnival feeling -- trippy indeed!
ReplyDeleteTrippy indeed! An image I will never forget. Nice job, Lily!
ReplyDeleteThanks all.
ReplyDeleteHe's a stunner; you should see him wrapped around a pole.
This is you playing notes in your forte, Lily- gleeful grotesquerie with a bizarro bent. Wonderfully trippy for sure.
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