YOU HAVE THE MAKINGS
OF A GOOD SALAD
I like the way your hips just
glide underneath that skirt. That's
very forward of me, but, sorry. Might
as well be truthful before this fruitless
bunch. Like bananas at a rocket launch,
or the heavily-laden bowl in a still-life
of some Renaissance artist, I get voracious
just looking. Or hungry, I guess I mean.
-
Whew! That's a tough one to put into words.
Probably I'm not even supposed to talk like
that these days. The way people are now.
Burning fat for for the charcoal fire
beneath the eyes? Man! That's a very
convoluted means of saying things.
-
Have we come very far? Have we now
garnered anything at all. Maybe I just
should have stayed in that goldmine
Sutter's Mill settlement, panning the
waters for whatever gold I could find.
But that was back in 1849.
No comments:
Post a Comment