2014 #325

there is a frosty
spray to her spread
and there is the foam
deluge which many in a polite

parlor scene would cause
a calling for attendants
to come blow-dry hairs
but she is taken into the arms

run by rapture and lives on reflex
and the last time a consequence
warning asked for a word
the laughter so thunderous

as these gorge walls thunder
louder than amplified timpani
shooed it so to this day new consequences
are told to leave her be to ride her ride


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.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s