Oh yeah.......forgot

Yeah, these are also poems I wrote while I was away from this place. I might modify a few as i read through, cause you know:



a cuckold's dream


let his brow fall, and settle over his eyes
let his mouth bend and weave into a scowl
let him sit still, making fists and shaking
or let him go out, to make pretend
and to forget
or try to

let his mind wander, and his laughter shiver
let his eyes wither; and with her let him ponder
let him make suggestions and spit out complaints
while her arm snakes around his waist
and her fingers grip
and her lips slip wet kisses

let her pasty face in, to nuzzle through
let her reflexiveness dominate sin
let out fictional feinting; sound a horn
and all the while
let affectations sigh out
and settle in

let a lingering bounce bounce a jaunty rhythm
let a stifling tap overwhelm a beat
let a settled brow release; a bent, beaten mouth breath
but all with suggestions, and a face turned away
but kept along
and held within

in a casual trot, there's a stomp that screams
in a conclusive embrace, an uncertain smudge leaps
through a series of fucks, much of nothing is changed
but the conscious return of a cuckold's old dream


_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=

dance, dance

festivity flows around furtive glances
surreptitious fellness follows flimsy bedfellows
the party's crescendos
blasts of color - oranges of fire and blues of ice
explosions of music - horns, yelps and sloppy percussion
and clandestine love, lingering loud

brims are lowered over eyes, straws and toothpicks chomped to pieces
eyes dart 'round the room like jets at war
smoke covers it all; makes their suspicion a show
a cloudy setting for murky thinking

trust is with elves and unicorns here
it's a joke
laughter here would be a foreign tongue
a babble - misunderstood - mispronounced

when the punch is passed around
the men drink with volition
pulsing throats and sticky chins - as if trying to prove something by it
and the cups - imploded - disappearing in fists
a capper to the display

the afro-cuban noise blare drowns out the thoughts that circle the place
a closed in, stifling, uncomfortable place
with shut in thoughts

when the dancing starts, the music stops
so does the part
new explosions repalce the congas. the trumpets
greasy explosions, muffled explosions
the explosions of human fists, human knees
the yelps turn to screams
and ripping dresses, snapping heels

a high school dance turned and twisted
like balloons in wind
oranges of fire
and blues of ice