|
Reba sink a boulder in the water |
|
Reba tie a cable to a tree |
|
Reba stuck in a game of lipstick perfume flypaper |
|
Reba press a razor to a slide cross a needle with a prune |
|
Knee deep in the motel tub |
|
Reba dangle ladle form her lip |
|
dip |
|
sip |
|
Reba babble to the nag with the lipstick perfume |
|
mutter to a farmer in a truck |
|
Take a peek at the cheetah, Reba |
|
cheetah on the prowl in a cage |
|
sink a boulder in the water |
|
tie a cable to a tree |
|
Mutter "nature" to the nag |
|
with the lipstick perfume |
|
Reba flush a fleshfarm leftover |
|
thunder in a circle |
|
down the pipes |
|
Bag it |
|
Tag it |
|
Sell it to the butcher in the store |
|
Reba put a stopper in the bottom of the tub |
|
picked up a jar unscrewed the top |
|
and watched it drop into the water |
|
A little scoop of plaster mix |
|
some coffee grounds and mud |
|
and then she stirred it with the ladle |
|
that her Grandmother had bought her |
|
threw in a pot of melted wax |
|
a forefoot and a hoof |
|
apple core, worms galore |
|
and a can of some corrosive |
|
coconuts and chloroform |
|
some wicker and some cork |
|
Toxic waste, some purple paste |
|
she hoped was not explosive |
|
Reba dip a ladle for a taste of her creation |
|
and she knew that what she make |
|
would be the finest in the nation |