American Sonnet (35)

boooooooo. spooky ripplings of icy waves. this

umpteenth time she returns—this invisible woman

long on haunting short on ectoplasm

"you're a good man, sistuh," a lover sighed solongago.

"keep your oil slick and your motor running."

wretched stained mirrors within mirrors of

fractured webbings like nests of manic spiders

reflect her ruined mien (rue wiggles remorse

squiggles woe jiggles bestride her). oozy Manes spill

out yonder spooling in night's lofty hour exudes

her gloom and spew in rankling odor of heady dour

as she strives to retrieve flesh to cloak her bones

again to thrive to keep her poisoned id alive

usta be young usta be gifted—still black