sensatarium

my head has been appointed to be
where the little nymph reality show will take place

on the first day they shifted
from one foot to the other
it's too dark they complained
and lit their own light-bulbs

nymphs started to lose color on the second day
their fingertips ran dry and chapped
they collected all of their will-power
and summoned their neglected jacuzzis

nearly becoming seaweed
little nymphs stepped out
on the third day's tormented
and barren bulk of mind

planted there a few cactuses
in order to somewhat mend
the landscape so unsightly
which I must admit doesn't flatter me much

on the fourth day they shook off
the dust from their butterfly wings
and blew them to the dark arks
where they accumulate still

on the fifth day nymphs gave birth
to incest slaughtered children
drowned them and threw in the air
forgot that you can never erase a sin

on the sixth day they left
their secret laboratories
to present the masterpiece
their four-legged playthings

nymphs put their brushes sideways
gazed over their easels
something is missing they said
and smiled so cunningly

in a feverish haste built up
heart and liver factories
workshops of features
reactors of characteristics

smiled cunningly once again
with moist eyes looking up at
innovative unwinged nymphs
made in their own image

and the reality show gone bankrupt
and another started in it's place
but all of their produced goods
solitary roam till this day on

and stick in my mind as in a swamp
the footprints of the nymphs