24 November 2007

alabaster thighs and clandestine sighs

oh mama! sit by me i won’t say a word
sing me lullabies you heard as a delicate child
in zorbing-like frames tainted lemony yellow
which you hated and wanted to paint bloody red

or ivory-white for to mourn the not-dead
like the sergeant-at-arms who’s aloof in me head
dying from under-exposure to big-bottled mona
who giv’im a boner in tite little jeanies

reminded of jean-y (a right little meeny)
she was always so teasingly pleasingly splayed
in front of the fireplace all toasted and cuddly
(s)pouting hubbily-bubble her dank incantations

not caring that he and the beautiful-she
had arrived in grand style at the governor’s ball
down the tubular hall bored by saintly de paul
for his bevy of heavily decked courtesans

the music as yet neither brash nor quintet
and the prancing dervaish unsprung from his cage
wound tight like a spring on this hot august night
dressed up like a sprite to her wood-nymphy pose

wants to giver her a rose in castilian style
on a flaming greek isle famed for levantine smiles
and forget not your mile-high caribbean dive
him piggy-back strapped to the hump on your back

light-hearted carousal through mid-morning air
consummated with care and lush grass underfoot
while your fantasies focused on little ol’ me
up to no blessed good on the ’orribly posh rue de guerre

(minos – november 2007)

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