directional madness in a pseudo frame…

blue surfer shorts

gris-gris;
slash the mesh &
turn a swimsuit into
shorts. they’ve been with me
ever since,
over a decade for a
five dollar
lifetime commitment.

the burn marks were
once red cigarette cherries
hanging from my red smiling
lips. sometime while driving
they fell & burnt holes in the
synthetic fiber, if not my
skin or subconscious, &
certainly not my dick.

gentlemanly mis-management
espouses cheerful exhaustion.
you gotta get ready for the next
Big Thing. “always ready”
reply the surf-shorts,
“we’ve been here for years.”
some of that smoke-scent still
whispers stories all drunken &
blotchy.

—————————————

From a comment a few minutes ago. Good thoughts, but down.

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4 Responses to “directional madness in a pseudo frame…”

  1. Well that is one thing to be careful with. Not the anatomy but the Surfer shorts.

    Well Done Clyde

  2. nice…a good pair of shorts can be hard to come by…once you find them they start building character…yeah glad they saved the tender parts cause that would most assuradly hurt…probably cause a wreck…

  3. Whoa! The burn marks reference was sheer brilliance, my friend!
    I wonder what lies behind those smoky veils…

  4. poetry dissected from a pair of pants. only you, crb. love the lines “the burn marks were
    once red cigarette cherries
    hanging from my red smiling
    lips.”
    somehow the repetition of the “red” really makes this pop. the ending is tight, too, the smoke-scent with its drunken and blotchy stories…. i can imagine.

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