To an Ageing Goddess

by Aidan Andrew Dun

taag 8


Goddess of pharmaceutical
neither your chemical
permanent wave
nor the massive enigma
of your false eyelashes
draw me to you
eccentric grand-crone
but the energetic way
you hurl yourself
against mortality
doddering right-wing
yogini of eternal
challenging death with
armour-plated mascara
flushed with recycled
hormones of Scandinavian
corpses, you in your
frightful prosecution of
reasonable purposes
fleeing the manure-pile
in pink stilettos
nonagenarian old-girl
of the mincing progression
across a worldwide
graveyard, English rose
of several summers gone
aged Cassandra still
disbelieved in the serious
matter of amours
in which sweet field
you have some
few grains of sense.

There you go
turquoise saucer-eyes gaping
whisking a bright flimsy sash
at the chauvinist demons
you, a brave General
of the Salvation Army.

image:’Old Nepali Woman’ by Johnson Moyo, pen and ink