(no subject)
Apr. 10th, 2008 | 08:35 pm
I hear the mailman
shut my clanky mailbox and move on
to the next house.
and as I go get my bills
statements
and coupons for the grocery store,
my pretty neighbor stands
in her short pink shorts
chatting with the mailman
while her dad mows the lawn.
Her shorts are up so high
that you see where her legs
join her body,
and they're down so low,
that her hip bones want to graze your cheeks.
She minus well of not been wearing
a shirt.
you can see her bellybutton ring
shining in the Sunday sun.
and you see the bottom of her
black
lacy bra
and the top of her
soft tan breasts.
The mailman takes this
as a favor
and watches my neighbor carefully.
she drops her mail
several times
so she can bend her knees
down to pick it up.
her knees pressing up against her breasts;
showing them even more
and she sometimes
drops the mail backwards
so the mailman can see
her black thong.
The mower shuts off
"Amanda! Go get me a
beer!"
And she goes inside
And the mailman leaves.
Goodnight.
shut my clanky mailbox and move on
to the next house.
and as I go get my bills
statements
and coupons for the grocery store,
my pretty neighbor stands
in her short pink shorts
chatting with the mailman
while her dad mows the lawn.
Her shorts are up so high
that you see where her legs
join her body,
and they're down so low,
that her hip bones want to graze your cheeks.
She minus well of not been wearing
a shirt.
you can see her bellybutton ring
shining in the Sunday sun.
and you see the bottom of her
black
lacy bra
and the top of her
soft tan breasts.
The mailman takes this
as a favor
and watches my neighbor carefully.
she drops her mail
several times
so she can bend her knees
down to pick it up.
her knees pressing up against her breasts;
showing them even more
and she sometimes
drops the mail backwards
so the mailman can see
her black thong.
The mower shuts off
"Amanda! Go get me a
beer!"
And she goes inside
And the mailman leaves.
Goodnight.
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(no subject)
Feb. 19th, 2008 | 07:46 pm
I remember the beatings
I got as
a child.
Never being
able to go out
and play
with Nathan,
or Scott,
or Chuck.
Because grass
always has to
be cut three times
you know.
Twice so that
children can
be beat in-
between,
And once more
so the yard
looks
nice.
I got as
a child.
Never being
able to go out
and play
with Nathan,
or Scott,
or Chuck.
Because grass
always has to
be cut three times
you know.
Twice so that
children can
be beat in-
between,
And once more
so the yard
looks
nice.
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True Story
Jan. 27th, 2008 | 04:15 pm
location: After work
music: Bill Evans
Sitting on a dark bench, late at night
Under a tall street lamp,
All that exists of me is my knees
And my shoes.
The old brick sidewalk
Guides my eyes
To a parked, green sedan.
In the driver's seat is a young woman,
Wearing a shiny necklace
With a vile attached
And a tiny spoon.
I watched her bring the dust to her face,
So her brain can give her body the dopamine.
She looks at me
Square.
She's clearly broken,
Her green summer eyes
Soaked with blue winter tears,
And I wished to God I could fix her.
But she kept with her blow
As I kept with my tea,
And wondered what was going on
In the car, next to the green one.
Under a tall street lamp,
All that exists of me is my knees
And my shoes.
The old brick sidewalk
Guides my eyes
To a parked, green sedan.
In the driver's seat is a young woman,
Wearing a shiny necklace
With a vile attached
And a tiny spoon.
I watched her bring the dust to her face,
So her brain can give her body the dopamine.
She looks at me
Square.
She's clearly broken,
Her green summer eyes
Soaked with blue winter tears,
And I wished to God I could fix her.
But she kept with her blow
As I kept with my tea,
And wondered what was going on
In the car, next to the green one.
