he experienced
the whole thing
in a dim room, and--
as always--it starts with a dame.
in the shadows, the most curvaceous
temptress whispered lasciviously,
reclining like a Titian
in the bowl . . .
"eat me,"
and, oh,
she was
juicy to the core.
planting the remains
by moonlight
seemed almost a sacrament
to mark that sweetness
forever in the small rites
that made up
his life.
in later years
in that city, lovers
would--when departing
temporarily from
one another's company--
exchange the word
"pear"
like a wet kiss.
It's Time For Him to Step Down . . .
-
Folks, it's time for him to step down.
He's had a lot of success in a career that spans 30+ years, and he should
be lauded for the things that he has acco...
7 years ago
1 comment:
A poem from the notebook i began after moving to the Bronx in the wake of the housefire in Jersey.
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