Did Icon by Rikki Santer
Did Versace billow beyond stilettos sky-highed
with peep-toed platforms triggered.
Did Balenciaga four-side a cocktail dress,
Armani rebirth old Hollywood, mused
by mini-dress metal.
Did red snake & crocodile scales lavish operatic for
Dolce Gabbana massimalismo,
fabulous by the water with champagne flutes.
Did flirty hip-high split ruffle-&-tulle frothy,
delicate pastry tasty with semi-shear pleats.
Did von Furstenberg slink the wrapped jersey so comfortable
no underwear, so comfortable get laid.
Did bubble silhouettes lampshade hems,
paint-by-numbers walk as perfume atomizers.
Did tulip fields loosen with free-flowing hair,
bloom surreal sweater sets, pussy bowtie all blouses in sight.
Did Gucci risque´ hippie chic & coquette a pout.
Did folds light-as-air float a train, make us want to tango,
orgasm with winks.
Did scarlet beret ravish its sequins like a great clarifier,
safety pins oversized strategized flesh.
Did raw beef bypass butcher,
a rooster feather a headdress to scold award shows.
Did pink wool suit & matching pillbox
scar an America alongside couture alabaster
ballooning above a sidewalk grate.
Did Gucci’s blackface jumper,
H&M’s coolest monkey in the jungle,
& Burberry’s hoodie with strings tied like a noose
expose abscessed fangs.