We know little of your character.
When we hear your name we think tits and red hair and red lips like pillows.
Shiny coke can brilliance of your dress and the S shape that lies beneath.
Purple lids frame cartoon eyes and cartoon person looks out to see nothing and strains to portray your cartoon womanhood.
People who think of Rick as grandpa are missing out on his sex appeal.
Stop relating with Morty people.
You’re relating with Morty too hard.
Stretching out ahead
Vast narrow wind
Stringy path – goat tracked
Grass matted like my hair at the back when I can’t be bothered to comb.
Poke holes in soil
Dew in the morning on the “washing” line
I’m an adder, swishing through, coiling up
A letter and I have wings and claws and
Fear inciter (twisted)
Blowing up bin-breath
Antisocial hoarder of things that mean different to me.
A magpie value
Scrooge McDuck Dragon whip my tail and yawn, as you creep past me
My great yellow eye pierces your body,
Drop in fear and I make you dance, twirling dolly with scaled fingers,
Black glinting talon twirls.
Scar in the lair – you can be Rowan Atkinson’s blue bird