a form of women / composition by JamelahDear Luna,
        you cheesehead,
looking over my shoulder
to see what I'm writing
about you, what did you
expect? An ode to your fat
white face, a dirge to your
decaying orbit? You can pull
on the watery world all you like,
but someday you'll lose your grip
and drown in the black ocean
of space. This is an elegy to your
silver-dusted body, your heart
of cold stone.

Copyright © 2009, F.J. Bergmann

Image Credit: Jamelah, some rights reserved

F.J. Bergmann frequents Wisconsin and fibitz.com. She writes poetry and science fiction, often simultaneously. Her poetry has recently appeared in Aberrant Dreams, Doorways, Paradox, Strange Horizons, Weird Tales, in a bunch of regular literary journals that should have known better, and in her third chapbook Constellation of the Dragonfly (Plan B Press, 2008). One of her pseudopodia can reach all the way from the bed to the refrigerator.