Like So Much Loose Change
It's not like the sonic boom.
Not like a pup's whimper, either.
It's more like the soft sucking erosion
of a riverbank--
gone before you take notice,
or like a back turned
when you least expect it.
It's like the man you want
looking for women 20 years younger now,
Jimmy Choo shoes dangling
from cocksure feet,
their show-off breasts peeking naughtily
at your own used-up fallen ones.
It's knowing you can't ever scoop up the hours
like so much loose change,
your legs spread wide open again,
a flower stuck in your hair,
and a sweet sexy man riding you softly
until you sigh, 'no more'.
Pris Campbell
©2006
Art: Nude by Salvador Dali
Return to Poetry Index
II
Return to Homepage
Published in Heavy Bear, Spring 2010
|
