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Flow Okay, Come Back Later

The dark green shredded to rusty white,
heavy rhythms, boost direction, thick desire,
into rich bloods thumping in anonymity.
I gather with you at fruit stands. You look
up and float through me in shiny yellow,
warming me with furry, silky smoothness.
Running after you, pulling my red wagon,
trying not to be lustful, but melting in summer
rain that removes loneliness and throws
darts through my corroded flesh. My legs
fall to pieces and fall off and I’m left screaming.

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  1. #1 by seabell on June 27, 2011 - 2:30 am

    A poem for the senses! Favourite moment? “I gather with you at fruit stands.” I recognized the feeling… This one goes to my own private collection of great love/lust poems!

    • #2 by Carl on June 27, 2011 - 8:16 pm

      That is very big flattery. Thank you for your comment. It is encouraging.

  2. #3 by Kay Camden on June 28, 2011 - 9:06 am

    I like the format of this. It forces me to slow down. I always read too fast.

    • #4 by Carl on June 28, 2011 - 10:22 pm

      Thank you for your comment. I appreciate it.

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