I am trying to write a poem but my mind
is wrapped up
in you/across the room/speaking whispers
and tongues
I wonder if you are reading Joanne Kyger
and if her words are making you
brush your thigh
so innocently but crawling closer
and closer
to your sweet spot
Its hump day and I've never head
such a rousing chorus
of "I need to get laid"
by so many beautiful faces.
The girl on my left is fixated by
the floor tiles, blushing
I can see your hands not so innocent
now have reached into
your shorts and you are fingering
and stroking
The discussion turns to
intellectual masturbation
I wonder if you are taking it more literally than me
Lets take a walk, you and I, and relieve
those clutching aches in our loins
Let us get lost in each other
as sound gets lost in the sea
Editors Note:
Today I suck at poetry.
Hopefully tomorrow
will be more
promising.
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