Abela
sees nothing
in Renoir's
kind of art
she prefers
Constable
or Rembrandt
so she says
as we lie
in the bed
after ***
cooling down
we smoking
cigarettes
a slight breeze
in the air
a window
half open
moon and stars
visible
those women
at the bar
she utters
with those
hairy men
how could they?
could they what?
fancy them
like sleeping
with an ape
we each have
our own taste
I tell her
I couldn't
not with them
she tells me
I'm glad she
fancies me
and my beard
as I kiss
between thighs
listening
as I do
to her moans
and her sighs.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC
Abela
sees nothing
in Renoir's
kind of art
she prefers
Constable
or Rembrandt
so she says
as we lie
in the bed
after ***
cooling down
we smoking
cigarettes
a slight breeze
in the air
a window
half open
moon and stars
visible
those women
at the bar
she utters
with those
hairy men
how could they?
could they what?
fancy them
like sleeping
with an ape
we each have
our own taste
I tell her
I couldn't
not with them
she tells me
I'm glad she
fancies me
and my beard
as I kiss
between thighs
listening
as I do
to her moans
and her sighs.
A BOY AND GIRL AND PILLOW TALK IN 1972.
Request permission to use this poem