Thursday, September 09, 2010

You Get the Picture

Aching for the riff but really
all I want is a pair of arms
all funked and breathable.
Nothing is confusing really beacause
my needs are simple and refined
as mayaonaise on corn beside a truck
in Red Hook on a sunny Sunday, or something.
I can barely see you through the night.
A silver bike is my agent of velocity.
Zipping through the city is all I can do for you.
Hey! I am so well-rounded
that you can't even make your way to me
all gray and bulbous. You may now enter
the museum of my face. You are going fast.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

lol

12:19 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

your poems make me very happy.

1:32 PM  

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