Jannie's Siren Song
I move through my mantled morning
like a bat, blissful
in the darkness,
the pre-dawn, the hour
of the wolfen;
travelling fast on the long concrete
midst a squirming school of wet
tail lights,
always tingling with alacrity,
bleary eyes peeled for the sharks,
the highway cruisers, the fuzz,
the joy muggers who appear from
the shadows hungry
for victims.
I arrive at my office, my portal
for the perky delights
of Cyberland,
and immediately I click on
Jannie,
to start my heart
and start my day.
Glenn Buttkus November 2008
2 comments:
She's obviously done a great job at flinging her upper undergarment.
The lady looks just like you, Jannie, and it certainly served to illustrate my sense of the poem. How far can a bra be flung?
Post a Comment