The Guffaw She Gave Me That Day in Mojave
Thanksgiving is the horniest holiday
+_+_+_+_+ Thanksgiving is the horniest holiday Short skirts made of antelope hides Wink white panties woven from birch bark to absorb womb syrup on full moons Cherokee pussy drool pooled ceremonially into purses made of bullfrog belly Cheyenne girls crash-cleaning their cunts against the waves of a salty sea, in my European company, In my American room, On Black Friday, offering my not-so-stainless steel to a nine-fingered dime in the form of a DM. I have written more than one thing about you One thing for each time Yet I’ve never known how to picture you naked till tonight, when you decided to swerve your birth-marked breasts right into my eye-line. Black dots of San Fernando sorrow run down your Mojave desert fault-line. Where the great guffaw (that I’ll get to) ended my not-so-new blue period, Komma, Jimmy. painting four-letter names in girl blood, offering fatherly fucks to bingers of bad luck, delivering medicines of never-ending sentences, incantational hammers, terrible truths told by telephone, Suddenly I’m stainless, suddenly I’m gold, Suddenly, Last Summer by tennesee williams starring me and you done cold. To some, your blue skies look like black cats Bringing bad luck in a big way But I’ll ignore the bullshit they say about you If you can do me the same. I’ll see the red flags in your blue eyes The way an old bull greets a new matador whom he cannot help but just adore *_+_+ I never got to the guffaw she gave me that day in Mojave but its better this way cuz I have written more than one thing about her One thing for each day and If I explain the guffaw she gave me in Mojave I’d run out of things to never say. We'd rush restaging the whole damned play. +_+_+_
