Mona’s mustache

and so there was if there was ever one
a Pharaoh who knew not Michelangelo
a Pope who knew not Joseph
and CBS owned Star Trek
and its nudity was painted over
with CGI to suit the time
her ass is hot said Duchamp
in French letters meaning the
Mona Lisa her
ass is on fire
we have viewed the apartments and the chapel
we have keen been all our lives on the lively arts
and yet those draperies had we known about our
person such a master draper’s art

the witchfinder

if any head or harm this devil
I decry thee for a witch
if these bouts
as who
which they say
were hay marry
would I just now conceptualize
the very merry couplings
down by the riverside
why so would I

Our Lady of Santa Monica

the skyscrapers bend way over when she walks
behind the elephants in the Easter Parade
pushing a broom and twinkling her mustache
it is Tuesday which is her day of sorrow
at the car wash also the bus tokens
and the great reward for the children
distributed fairly among all the inhabitants of the home
after that all the orchids must be fed and watered
and only then described and catalogued
the table is cleared there is no order
left for the chef on his revolving nightstand
there isn’t any rebuke of the saint
that hasn’t been tried and called larceny
the dawn comes up pale blue and stays that way for most of the day
just before nightfall the tourists gather
like crows in the wheatfields of Van Gogh
who sells big at auction houses

  © Christopher Mulrooney