ponderous poetry for the hoi polloi




Prickly little

Customers don’t bother me

Like most people do

Dionaea muscipula

Femme fatale of the flowery world,

Mother Nature’s Mata Hari,

But no matter how hard you try to

Convince me she’s bad news,

I spy with my little eye

Something beginning with ‘v’…


Venus! Wow what a beauty!

In her harlequin jacket,

Giving me the green light,

And luckily for her I’m not one to

Beat around the bush,


I wanna head straight for the good stuff!


‘Come in, come in!’ her carmine-coloured feelers say to


Forty-one pretty fingers,

Beckoning me over,

Bringing me closer to my dea-


Stop! Don’t ruin the moment!

Instead, just let me dream of her

Sticky tape lipstick,

Firebrick Pritt Stick,

Tricking me into


Her lair, where

Her syrupy tongue awaits,

So deliciously, inauspiciously, viciously viscous,

I love her lava, her lava I



But as you wouldn’t stare into the sun,

Don’t look too closely into her eyes!

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