A Queen's Shave Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

She carries
and briskly waves
locks and rivers
of green hair,

stretching out her
big arms
in all directions.

Doing the seesaw,
as her arms
fall and rise

in stretchy puffs
and punches
of flowing, jumping
air brushing her,

as she tosses them
off to unclothe
her slim mermaid
figure glowing

with the beams
of an asteroid's tail
powdering her
with feathery light,

as the wind
clutches
and throttles
to a fast-paced
muttering
flying current.

(ii)

In cold puffs
and drafts,

when a breeze
blows
with a soft
whirring mouth,

her hair floats
with green
butterflies.

In glistening
cascades and slow
mountain
streams babbling
through a smooth
gradual slope,

her hair splashes
drizzling down
her neck and spine,

as small drops
of lime locks roll
down her back.

(iii)
Her well-armed
barber stops by
for a few days

in one stretched-out
throbbing visit,

waving strong-winged
fingers gripping
her clippers and sheers
firmly as they curl,

jump and zigzag
through twigs
and branches of her hair

filled with ribbons
of ruby and blue
petals bloating like moths.

After a thorough
shave, her barber sighs
louder than
his fat mouth of a gale,
bawling out:

"I've pulled myself
from touching
those glowing
flowers
that brighten
your green leafy hairs".

And the barber stays,
as the wind
continues to blow
with scissors and clippers,

a shrubby glistening
tree the queen
in her gold crown
of flickering flowers,

as her barber
jumps back to go home,

the wind lowering
a whisper and warbling
babbleto a murmur.