Monthly Archives: April 2013

Scrambled eggs.

Fuck Hitchcock

the birds woke me up this morning.

disheveled

in a mid morning daze

from a long night

needing to rest well through the dawn,

they woke me

and were adamant about keeping me that way.

trying to gather my thoughts

as i take myself out the door,

words like cars barely getting through the gate.

‘fuck’ slides through no problem

with its inborn confidence

but the word morning

seems to get cut off at the ‘m’

forcing me to shovel it up

from this early traffic jam.

all the other words are carrying out

but if I try to stop and look at them

they fold back on themselves

and i have to read them backwards

as i drive by

and carry it all around the corner.

She saw me then

and I felt ashamed.


Making Love to a Street

A special sense of sensuality,

A feeling nothing else really gives

An appreciation

Of something no one else notices.

The amorous curves

Rise and fall,

Sway this way- that.

All breeding an intense admiration,

Akin to an adoration.

The tingling sensation starting in the soles of my feet

The tentativeness of a virgin

Reaching a hand towards the darkness.

Careful-

Not too fast,

Don’t be too gentle…

But for heaven’s sake, be gentle!

At last reaching down to brush my fingertips

against the seemingly smooth surface,

like touching a black widow;

a wrong move or unwatchful eye

could be the death of me.

 

After the first few loves, you begin to have standards.

No longer will anything do,

Only some will start that tingle in your feet,

While others cause a rough ache and a flinch.

Driving along, when I see one I wish I had,

My hands grip the wheel a little hard,

Gritted teeth and a long exhale.

That vibration that fills my car,

But always starts at my feet.