Monday, July 11, 2016

poem of the day 07.11.16

not dead yet

all ass packed
in brown shorts
has that cell phone
american sway
sauntering down 4th avenue
in this blistering morning heat
the goddamned
dog days for sure
he must be saying
passing her
at least double her age
triple maybe
as big as a city block
a beached whale
with a cane
knocking on heaven’s door
but that doesn’t stop him
from spinning like a ballerina
to get one last look
after she passes
an ass walk for the ages
his last great summit
of libido
almost sprawled out on the pavement
before he rights himself
wipes the sweat from
his brow
looks nobody in the eye
as he continues on
with nimble
unsure steps
down this rank
and sweltering block.


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