Murphy Retrograde

It’s a blowout & time for a spare.Mercury must be moon walking again.

His high jinks aimed for a fixing.No sequined glove on this bad boy.

His glitter’s affect’s ultra violet.It’s popped on a stretch.

With a doppelganger’s goosefoot,he’s fractal. Even the paperhangers

aren’t sure what to bank or hawkunder his rout. What a bang,

he squeals nimble in Pig-Latin.But she’s got venom & screams

like a Queen about to get her Pretty.“I’ll get you Murphy!” She kicks her tire

flat, knowing she’s been tarred,baby, & the vapor is all blue.