marisol visits a reclusive poet…

who do you think i am?

dollar cost averaged into
life; with any luck the music
plays for a few seconds longer
than the dance lasts. that
girl with a pin-up smile topped
with a glowing aura is
running a fever &
needs to sleep it off.

i know that kind of smile;
after the gunfight ‘tween
clinton & those gangs i’m
not surprised she was looking
to escape though nothing is
ever entirely accidental. a man
sees what there is to see
& falls for the scruffy hearts’
club mascot. comes with the
territory. ain’t complaining
’bout my good luck today.

my speedball mentality is a paced
logic without precedence; she’s
sugar-fruit falling from a star tree
in a grove hidden from easy view.
i poured the last ounces of sunshine
from my hip flask into a shot for
both of us. midnight flashed into
brilliant afternoon as marisol
clambered down from the sugar
tree. we practiced healing each
other & settled for lowered
fevers without the aches & pains
of separation. anything else
would have been too much to
ask for under the near-perfection
of midnight afternoon.

————————————-

For Marisol. Hope you feel better.

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2 Responses to “marisol visits a reclusive poet…”

  1. I like the name Marisol very much, someone told me that it means “bitter sea” and I’ve always wondered how the sea can be bitter since is the most beautiful thing to look at. I hope your Marisol is well and you too! Glad to read a post from you!

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