2014 #209

just then, just when the gentleman
was trying to wonder how he knew
how to operate a telephone
but in these days the telephone
did not exist, the lady
he’d lain with who he only moments
before the bright pink phone came to be
on the nightstand and caused such a thunderous

chorus to come careening, well moments before
the gentleman had signed with a hard
series of sighs his plunder of the lady
he’d drawn into this frankly swanky sack,
so anyway, just then, the lady he’d lain with
chose to complicate her gentleman’s quandary
and she used horrific, ejaculatory,
exclamations to do it so holding the receiver

in his hand he turned to ask
with a different kind of sigh
than the sigh he signed his plunder
of her with, why must she choose
this moment to so horrifically
ejaculate so many exclamations,
when he saw why, and then he felt why,
feeling plumage under the covers


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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