METAMORPHOSIS OF THE ROCKETTES

They can-can as fast as the ladies

with voluminous balloons for boobs,

shaved legs, and no 5’oclock shadow

Their ruby red lips, painted eyebrows,

blinding ringed fingers and virginal buns

are all part of a quest for glutinous kisses

and touches of ultimate pleasure.

When they grow old, and view a night of stars,

they turn into believers. At the door to eternity,

they know everything is going to be all right.

The Chorographer suggests they don’t bump

and grind their way in, urging them to dampen

their fireball of heat so they can move

into stillness, to a place deeper than silence.