Just listening again
to you singing and playing,
hootin’ and hollerin’
on Blowin’ the Fuse
and you know, I’m darn sick
of all this piety I meet,
everyone so sweet and light.
I’m wishing for a nice dirty boy
like you, Sam; suggestive
without saying one bad word.
Just listening to your quiet laugh
your wicked laugh
and your music, I know
you knew all the right moves.
[Poem #32]
This began as a game some bloggers played in 2008, to write about people who'd made an impact, in the same number of words as one's age, every day for a year. I did them less often and went on longer, adding one word each birthday. I stopped in 2016 and incorporated them into my main poetry blog. In 2019 I resumed the project and gave it its own blog again, with a new name, where it may unfold at its own (slow, intermittent) pace. I've labelled these verse portraits, but they're more like quick sketches: mere glimpses, impressions....
Well, my friend ... this is only the second 2008 poem I have checked out and I am hooked! I want to meet this man. Well, maybe in 2008 I did. LOL
ReplyDeleteI do hope so, for you!
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