When there ain't no hell to kiss you
261. january 21, 2011
When there ain't no gal to kiss you,
And the postman seems to miss you,
And the fags have skipped an issue,
Carry on. . .
Too much hair
meant for Austen's
web cam.
Sick with toad
in the throat mid-blizzard,
without the spine to Skype
with my shrink. Too
lost in The Children's Book
where every woman
pays for spare pleasures--
moments of slip knots
and clay-wet hands
which come to no good.
Trench poetry, teaching posts,
husbands-of-convenience.
With waning wives
hidden in ivy'd hidey holes, dear reader
you don't need love to last in your stories,
you have so many letters to rearrange.
week38: 1, 2, 3, 4
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (crazy behind on archives. 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)
When there ain't no gal to kiss you,
And the postman seems to miss you,
And the fags have skipped an issue,
Carry on. . .
Too much hair
meant for Austen's
web cam.
Sick with toad
in the throat mid-blizzard,
without the spine to Skype
with my shrink. Too
lost in The Children's Book
where every woman
pays for spare pleasures--
moments of slip knots
and clay-wet hands
which come to no good.
Trench poetry, teaching posts,
husbands-of-convenience.
With waning wives
hidden in ivy'd hidey holes, dear reader
you don't need love to last in your stories,
you have so many letters to rearrange.
week38: 1, 2, 3, 4
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (crazy behind on archives. 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)