Unspoken
What they don't know is
while you're talking to them, looking in their eyes
and nodding, smiling- saying, yes dear, that is inter-
resting
you're off
somewhere
taking in the female sights, the breasts
that bounce
the way they used to
back when porno movies
were called blue, and there were girls who had real jugs
before each and every
single boob
was full of
plastic
............................but the one
you're thinkin about
now
is not a
porn star, it's that bimbo in the mailroom
you wouldn't be caught dead
just talking to: she has no brain at all,
but boy
does she have chest
action. What you
don't know
is, that while you're deep
inside your head, your thoughts
tumescent,
the lady across from you, the one
you're married to?--she's reading them and wishing
you quite naturally
dead-
they have a way.
A Man's View
Because you know the way that breath
feels on my neck, and the gooseflesh
ballsac tightens
at your name,
doesn't mean
I don't respect
you-
........means
I want you touching
while we talk.
Sad Motions
The moon
shouldn't be allowed to hang
so low, the air should not be fresh enough
to fill not only lung, but all of life
on nights when you're not here.
I only want
to breathe
with you
these useless genitals
mustn't
buzz me awake,
alone, and feeling stupid doing what I do
beneath a moon like this, where the room
is light enough
to see how sad my hands look.
Main Page
|
This site sponsered by
|
