She likes her fiction
Lightly seasoned with facts
Smacked his face
Not to increase friction
But for the pause of dramatic effect
She likes his temper
Heated but never burned
Ego is melted in her swelter
He learns to simmer down
She likes the struggle
With sips of power play
While holding pieces of his puzzle
Turns yesterday into today
She likes to bring up past failures
His knees buckle and he staggers
Under the weight of added pressure
She likes to see stars
Aggravated by instigation
Until he takes her on a trip
to the constellations
Passing Venus and Mars
Above all, she loves the victim
Told the cops. “Wait…I hit him.”
So he could be set free
She likes the game
To be played in public
For all the world to see
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Wow...
ReplyDeleteI could see her while I was reading.
Your words have always painted these awesome pictures. Well, more like movies.
Every once in a while... I read a piece like this and realize you are still my favorite poet after... 12 years.
:)