26 February 2008

Rain.

one soupy evening as the rain pejoratively tapped slowly on the sidewalks
like a guitarist choosing his beat with the soft strumming of his fingers
while he finds the chords to create his moment
two young scholars sat hunched forward a bit, leaning towards each other as they
discuss favorite words and grey hound bus trips
amidst a fleshy mound of mashed potatoes
and a darn good piece of sauteed salmon
they sipped wine lusciviously
...the only thing that was lacking was cheese
made up for or perhaps by the candlelight that flickered and flecked about
dancing across their concentric faces and staining the nearby wall just a bit
....washing their experience in a soft aura of yak fur trimmed light

2 comments:

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Historical Wit said...

hmmm, come on mad woman, post up some more. You got a good voice, express it.

Post a Comment