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Tallulah Dec 2012
Grab my waist
Pop a pill
Morals misplaced
Another refill?
Yes, please
Sit on your lap?
You’re such a tease
Bridge the gap
Your words are sticky
But your tongue sweet
A quickie
In the back seat
Hot box
Exhale and repeat
If the devil knocks
Tell him I’m long gone
Tallulah Dec 2012
I’ll never be your lover
Just a visitor in cold covers
Ask me to spend the night
& by morning I’ll take flight

I’ll never be yours
Racing through revolving doors
Trapped in a loveless paradigm
I’m afraid you’re out of time
Tallulah Dec 2012
Our politicians preach hope
While our nation struggles to cope
Stacking woman into binders
Deaf to all but hired reminders
Treaties & agreements for peace
While riots rage on in Greece
Told that we are doing just fine
As more join the food stamp line
American banks engorged with greed
Planting in free soil a debt ridden seed
The next Great Depression has already begun
& It matters not which candidate has won
With our cancer ridden healthcare
Attempts like duc-tape to repair
Voting to raise the debt ceiling
An American father kneeling
Praying to God to find a job
While outside “we the people” form a mob
The 99% chanting in the streets
Stubborn legislatures don’t budge from seats
C-span listens to recipes from cookbooks
A dull murmur of televised crooks
Unemployment continues to rise
Prophets sure of the world’s demise
Tallulah Dec 2012
A father quaffs spiked egg nogg.
& Somewhere in Prague,
a homeless man glows with real cheer
that comes with a gift of Christmas beer.
Tallulah Nov 2012
I’m hanging up my winter coat
Tea to soothe my aching throat
Slowly I’ll start to de-thaw
& Let this reality withdraw

I’m sparkling next to the lights
In my snowy white tights
Singing out a melody
About a warmth so velvety

I’ll carefully sit you
Underneath a Christmas tree
Just to make it crystal clear
You’re my present this year
Tallulah Nov 2012
Not here
Not there
               Not anywhere

No reassuring hugs
No disapproving tugs
No walking down the aisle
No disapproving my style
No comforting smile
Dad's been dead for a while
Tallulah Nov 2012
Paint me a picture with ink of gold
Sculpt me a statue of my e m p t y mold

Weave me a dress with your fingertips
Show me your world through sunken lips

Can’t you see? You’re an artist
Unable to clutch a brush with a fist

Release your rage on a white frame
& Tell me that I’m all to blame

Sip up my fragile strength- spit it like fire
Continue to be my hearts latest desire
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