that had been plowed before.
No truffles could be found,
though roots would do.
Treasured for all their juiciness,
exotic tastes and fragrant musk.
This life, she thought, it could have been
in circles of a better class.
And then she dreamed,
watched by the fading stars
and other planets of a distant world,
she dreamed a woman’s dream
and wrapped herself from head to toe
into the most exquisite ambience
of lust. It was the colour of blue velvet.
The mother had a bad addictionto gambling in her jurisdiction.One brother used amphetaminesthe other started in his teensto rob and steal and even killit made the family quite ill.One day the father, chaired a meetingnext day his daughter started eating.The mother won a million bucksone brother said this life, it sucksthe other changed identityand ended…
I shall not share them.Those of poor mannersjust stay away you wankersyou are not welcome.It’s strictly envyyou know that you’re inferior,consumed by hatred.To me you’re nothinga windbag full of flatusand diarrhoea.
You sat out in the courtyardbandana and a frown.I must admit deception‘I learn ze English, yes? ‘You dropped your Yeats and giggledI loved you, I confess.We sat in that old Lincolnon dimly lit black streetsyou did undo my buttonsthere on the bucket seats.I was a clumsy studentof flesh anatomy.Hands on was mandatoryfor you and, now,…
uplifted byits own history.It’s seen the slaughterof Thomas Muenzer’s men,the fertile fieldshave given thanksand produceto blood and its successors,medieval timeshave long beenlaid to restall heads lopped offthe sound of swordsfrom Klingenthalring in the future.We reminisceeach Spring and Fallclimb up the towerof the wingthat has survivedand seen it all.We raise our steinsin solemn silencethose days were…
May I suggest you plant inside your shoessome roses, blacks and reds and also blues.It would improve the status of your feetand even cold, our feet will need to meetbefore the honeymoon when they’ll be closecan you imagine, girl, a rose between your toes?
could bean unwashed pantyhose.Let us composea bit of prosefor thosewhose water frozea story of the gardenhose.And there it goes,his friends and foesyelled ah’s and oh’swhen stepped upon their toes.And if you’re closeto her who choseher private woesyou must exposethe wrath that grows.
