Brown Archangel

She's built up anew,
flipped up comprimises from a blotted page
a pulpy devil's whelp
in a ridiculous box

her wings were steel
and her face made it seem like she was
a brown archangel
with missles,
to blow my rejection up

but they say I'm smarter than that
I keep my dreams under my hat

and I learned how to advertise,
without being and advertisment

she would fail,
choking on cat hair
or words,
or feet,
and break down after every growl,
making way for roads
into better pastures

the shade of the root,
us, and not us
her wings got
sold
on e-bay

written on 8/8/05