"gothic amish?" (trg, 3-14-2001)
buggy pulls up,
uniquely attired folks
step out
for a night of poetry readings
shared with
a local mystic of sorts
and myst's Lady;
all seems normal, whatever
that is, until someone
notices a lone tattoo
not meant to be found
under the dame's black stockings --
this is what happens when
you forget to check for holes --
the rather well done
piece of work, not that i would
ever pear, was
the normal colourless
hooded damsel in her
normal colourless cloke; with one
unigue exception...
this vamp had similar
colourless netted stockings
and a whip to match,
with a neat little word
of advice:
"Don't fuck with me English!"
buggy pulls up,
uniquely attired folks
step out
for a night of poetry readings
shared with
a local mystic of sorts
and myst's Lady;
all seems normal, whatever
that is, until someone
notices a lone tattoo
not meant to be found
under the dame's black stockings --
this is what happens when
you forget to check for holes --
the rather well done
piece of work, not that i would
ever pear, was
the normal colourless
hooded damsel in her
normal colourless cloke; with one
unigue exception...
this vamp had similar
colourless netted stockings
and a whip to match,
with a neat little word
of advice:
"Don't fuck with me English!"
Have you ever longed
for the smell, ever so slightly of lavender,
being caught in your nose's breath
as you lay upon a bead of velvet
sprinkled with red and deep purple roses,
the odor of sweet apples and large almost black grapes
fall down over your hands and their middle?
I have.
'Sea Air' (trg, 11/14/03)
You looked up and then later down,
thinking that you smelled the ocean's waves,
touching, releasing and doing so again,
bringing a different blend of aromas
never to be mistaken for another,
apples with a sweetened bitter taste
calling me to the red and deep purple roses,
asking me if I'm too full?
Never of this air.