written By
It was a sunny day in June,
the first day freedom danced,
licking a stick of Vanilla ice cream.
She was beautiful like the moon,
tall like a giraffe
gazing through a rooftop,
a half-shirt skirting her breasts
like the cock of a bottle;
a pair of black pants
throwing her butt out into the air;
two spindling feet
mounted on a skateboard;
two rings on her nose;
two clasped on her lips;
two earrings on both ears,
perched like a bird on a branch,
smoking grass.
