Celibate for longer then Rip
Van Winkle's nap, it seems,
Sara dreams in technicolor,
breasts like round hills again,
legs wrapped like thunderbolts
around some sexy man's waist.
Sean Connery maybe, or
Denzel Washington.
She wonders if sex works like
heartbeats in animals, if
she used up her quota in her
too many men too little time
communal days.
She remembers when her face
blazed a fire in men's hearts.
Between their legs, too.
Now she's forgotten what an orgasm
feels like with a man still inside her.
She climbs out of bed, puts on her
Give Bush a Blow Job PLEASE sweatshirt
does not go near the airport
but joins other graying ex-hippie
women who wander the streets
and coffee shops after midnight,
minds still alert and longing,
bodies fading like ghosts
between every streetlight.
7 comments:
that's a wonderful poem!
Thanks, both of you.
Good poem. Excellent final image. "Dreaming in technicolor" stopped me (cliche, dull note), but then , technicolour is fading, too. So it works, in its way.
Oh, I noticed a typo -- "climbes". Kinda looks like Chaucer, but I don't think you intended it that way.
Hi Brian
Thanks for finding the typo (will fix now) and the comment. The last part of the poem is definitely stronger than the first part so it still is in my 'to be looked at again later' mindfile. I was concerned with the breast image line, too, and have played with it several times, but haven't found anything yet that works better.
I'm not sure if "breasts ... with rainbows" is better. Becomes visual, mental. The mounded hills (or whatever) are what they look like when you're lying down (can't look at the post while making comments, so I may be misquoting... but ya know what I mean, I expect)
Hi Brian
That line is the one still giving me fits and yes, it's abstract now...I'd thought going with color might work, but I'm still not happy with it. I'm still fiddling. I may find some variation of 'hill's that I like better than my original line. Thanks.
Post a Comment