MY FAVORITE FLOWER

has a brilliant aureole

that scares all the bees away.

Her scent is so intoxicating—

I can’t walk a straight line.

My mean-spirited grandmother

warns:

“She talks too much,

and her boobs are too big”

When she comes into view

with her three-legged calico cat,

the earth stops spinning—

tides grind to a halt,

stars fall from the sky

and light up the dark

corners of the world.

The sun no longer sets,

and the man in the moon

confesses—he’s always

been nothing more than

a figment of our imagination.

When she’s near—

birds tweet sweet melodies,

pussy cats purr a drum roll,

puppy dogs beg for kisses,

and butterflies line up

on her shoulders in size places.

Even nematodes emerge

from the earth with shit-eating grins,,

singing— “What A Wonderful World.”

Her nectar feeds every lost soul.

A rainbow-hued spray of moisture

that emits from her lips

is enough to quench the thirst

of a thousand lonely men.