Some minds are better than others. They are sweet to eat and
full of treat.
Make mine a pina colada she said. Her mouth foamed. The red
dress lifted off her thigh.
I wanted to die and go to heaven. Some things are just better than
others she said. My mouth grinned with delight.
I said alright. We got all night. Simple delights.
What a way to go. A half pound of booze. A skirt with a limp. A
night of some chocolate ebony mouse in my dark deserted house.
Shag. Shag. Light a fag. Half way around the world in a chariot of
the golden whirl.
Mind you. I don’t do this most of the time. She said. Prancing and
dancing as the naked rays were misty on her velvet can. I had high
hopes for the woman that I am. Love is as gentle. Let’s do it again.
My house. Her mouth. My hand. Her beauty. My queen. Her beast. My
Immaculate purity. I said, it was like dreams running through my
head. Her eyes piercing. The sky chanting. The storms coming. There
is danger in them hills she said. My mouth. Her hand. My touch. Her
dance. My clothes. Her sweat.
What is it all for. The cities are filled with this. And all I know
is there. Not here.
Make mine a pina colada. They are sweet to eat and full of treat.
Yes I said. Let’s do it again.
prose in poetry