PARACHUTE UNLIMITED

My charred reentry
sets my carcass, all a-roast.

My zip cord
unspools
from perforated stomach,
parachute unlimited.

Opiate congratulated,
from hard times, we graduated.
Poppies are in the head.
Poppies are also in the field.

Through the snow, she moves.
She in platinum head,
in Marilyn skin,
in blue gingham,
in silver shoes,
and wearing the lion’s ring
band,

she, Dorothy, comes
to boast.

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