I thought her blissful moans were cries of pain,
until she arched her back so powerfully
the ceiling took evasive action.
Her record collection was as eccentric
as the Come Together hippie
and as beautiful as Audrey Hepburn.
Her cat herds were wren stalking art galleries.
What would PETA think
of the Marilyn in the clouds tattoo,
on the shaved puma?
The Beatles fan from Betelgeuse!
She’s as enigmatic as vicious,
as compelling as capricious.
Her garden gnomes speak in tongues.
Oh, how she loves tongues,
in adventurous places
and on necklaces, golden ones.
The Beatles Fan from Betelgeuse
says there’s no decomposing bodies
in her market garden.
The Beatles Fan from Betelgeuse!
There’s too much truth in her fiction,
but her probing kiss is my addiction.