Friday, April 26, 2024

No Books

Spring's cold cuts 
like diametrical ice
a false summer sunrise
and aren't you still frigid
like a stinging metallic dime in
my pocket with little real value and 
no heat

Jim Morrison said, "The bus gives you a hard on with books in your lap."
No books, I had only a Guns and Roses t-shirt 
and a Tony hawk haircut she always stood up and had to advertise that raven black hair, perfected face paint and her scent, my god her scent...

last night I went deep under a red light
touched her soul from both sides
and I must love her 
for I saw my self, and I told my self
give her your best, she is a barbarian like you not a Roman with raven black magic, not a child of the sea with midnight-colored psyiognomy, not adorned with drizzling jeweled crown

Girls of my dreams are far past midnights and red lights
and spring cuts cold like diametrical ice

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