Friday, December 29, 2006

Lucky Garnet Replies to Dice Raymond

As Alice says, it would be nice if things made sense for a change.
But Alice, dear, things never made sense, not even when falling apart
in a poem by William Butler Yeats
about two orgasms for the price
of one or Robert Frost's way the world will end twice
once with fire and once with ice.
Here, hold my center.
Come again, dear swain.
Come like the rain.
We'll take your cock and my tail,
and we will invent the Martini, my love.
Meanwhile who will walk down lover's lain
while Alice corrects the spelling of lane
and I shall talk about Alice's sins and Alice's sons
with the cat whose smile was never there.
When things make no sense, come again.
I'll drikn to that. I'll drink to hat. I'll flat your what.
But for now, Phil will fill the bill
and Alice wll be no prude with Gertrude
and Molly will not be solly but will stay jolly.
Heigh ho the holly!
And will I come through with resolutions new
too good to be untrue?
Tomorrow!

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

At the Delano
I bought Byron a sidecar
with not a blonde on the joint
redheads everywhere
and no dates for Yeats
Alice well and
I say Molly boldly as I sit on the patio
strum the first chord on my guitar,
a sonorous A minor
because you are about minors and flats
and speaking of numbers,
you are not a prime but a fraction,
a 10.0078 type of thing.
I guess it all starts with the feet,
the delicate and royal insistence
of their shape
as they climb my chest,
caress my cheeks and become intricately woven into
the fabric of my dream
sort of a beneath the surface
lava type of thing,
an eruption about to define its parameters
as I study each beautifully polished toe with a passion
other men might reserve for something more important
like
golf

that's a resolutiom

Phil

8:25 AM  

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