Alley-oop around my neck

Alley-oop around my neck

Alley-oop around my neck
three hundred and sixty
red degrees
will open the view
from all the tube
in which I have been
wandering,
from all the promises
of fair nook,
of all the second chances
boredom,
of all the suddenly
and unexpected borders,
of all the looks you
gave me,
and spin my head
for from that moving
I finally will turn
away this chair
and upper reddish
ruby
that shined and pleases but is dead
the ruby’s only
for a sale
won’t take it for
a nap,
I’d rather take a
napkin than have
a cold but shining
sunny ice
the glimpse of
which attracts
the temperature
which it consumes,
just lies -
turn the head
for only thirty
degrees, even thirty
one are not needed
will you see me
behind the screen?
will you feel
what I needed?
passion passed-
postponed point,
put properly,
penetrating through,
won’t share a chair
with you,
won’t even let to sit
you-
wavy hair is undone,
but I’m done with it,
no hair maker would
have cut me down,
but you succeeded,
congratulations -
are you looking at me?
look at me if you dare,
won’t shake a hand of yours
won’t, even if you
let -
but I let you
go
and share the one-
person bench for
as long as you
wish,
alley-oop around my neck
has twisted
me,
now I am a spinning three hundred
and sixty degrees
itch-