Victrola spins a threnody of writhing silk bolts;
billows blue damask from outsized spools. Trapped wing-beats,
tourmaline eye-beads, red netting on vintage millinery.
Soft bodies flutter and bleat behind epiglottis. An urgent entreaty
and the chanteuse opens her throat to release—Calliope,
Magnificent, Violet-Crowned, Lucifer. The feather tracts,
the pearl gray tips, the exotic decurving. Oh magenta gorget.
Black gorget with purple throat band.
White gorget with purple rays that may be erected.
I call this song Zelda Babycakes. Stiff swirls of frosting
instill an ache in sensitive teeth. Sugared plumules drifting.
I call this song Waverly Featherlashes. How could I resist
those exquisite eyes, those sultry sighs, that diaphanous warbling.
Captivated beak peaks through scarlet veil. Pinnaed neck undulates
until it is transfixed in the piercingly sweet envoi’s clasp:
ornamental hat pin through the throat of a hummingbird.
