Urgency
pulled tight
snapped
left the key
dangling
in the door
pinned our
bodies
against a wall
as Monet
crashed
to the floor -
we forgot the poets
we once were
so quietly satisfied
with the serenity
of fucking
in metaphor
our beautiful pens
rather than cock
and tongue
thrusting
into the belly
of the moon,
soliciting
sighs
from an otherwise
silent universe.
Against a wall
we were undone
zippers
and buttons
wet with sweat
groaning
grinding
finding
our way back
into
the real world











LOL Great Work dear lady!

I can’t believe you used the “F” word! You did write this poem to me didn’t you? You mention things only “we” would know.











It just works so well with your prose-esque, awesomesauce style.









meg














132 old applause
