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