Wrestling
loneliness from a hot woman's eyes,
with a lurid
promise of foreign allure
and a mighty
passport made of sandalwood
and other
exotic fragrances
Which the owner
need only waft
Under a fit
bits runny nose
To rake the writhing
wetness into her spotty panties
Like wriggling
worms in topsoil
Blinded by the
sun
Albeit that the
sun in question
Is lit by the
fumes
Of duty free
after shave
And other
intoxicants
Mini skirts
Hot pants
Pop sox
The eyes of the
dead
In blue bar
candescence
In kabuki
artaudia
Incense and
myrrh
Like the glow
of sambuka
Wringing with
the promise of spring
After the
chicken thighs
And the belly
dancer
After the blood
hot sun
Always the
scarlet snow
And the fat men
in boy blue
wranglers
Cake all they
can eat
By the chicken
hot score.
17/07/17.
artwork by irina savina
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