soft curves
bosom
and buttocks
tiny beads
of sweat
above candy lips
tops flung
across
the room
jeans hurriedly
escaped one
leg turned out
bed clothes
pushed down
knotted
and no cares
in the world
for now
rhetorical passions
spoken and
answered
Monday, July 20, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2009
(59)
-
▼
July
(22)
- The Most Beautiful Girl
- To sleep
- Someone Else
- Regret
- Cowboys
- Why Are Your Poems So Dark? : Poetry Everywhere : ...
- not happy
- All The While
- passion
- The Night
- For Tami
- two rooms
- you get all kinds
- bruised life
- A Pox On You, Criminal
- Brother George Plays Ukulele
- coffee club
- The Value of Poetry
- Check Paris or Rome
- Forgotten
- Hippy Buddhist Vegan Wren
- Demon Dogs
-
▼
July
(22)
About Me
- stickbooth
- I struggle with addiction and am just recently out of prison- I dislike most people and am bitter and self destructive. Yet somehow I have a good time. My first wife wanted to be an FBI agent when I met her in college, and the last one was a prostitute,the former gave me three great kids that I named Dakota, Skye and Willow, the latter a hell of a hard time. In the past I have been a busboy, a waiter, and a bartender. I have worked in nearly all construction trades including carpentry, brick laying, electrical, weilding, and plumbing. Once I had a job where I climbed tree's for a living. I fought Mixed Martial Arts when they still called it No Holds Barred, I have sold cars and was an editorial cartoonist. I am a failed actor, to lazy to try very hard, and lived with outlaw bikers in Northern California. I served as a medic in the army,and studied creative writing as well as radio tv. I cook a mean breakfast and like to sit and think sometimes all day. Did I say think or drink?
No comments:
Post a Comment