THE STRIVING

I cry till you see your beauty
I joke till the infinite bites you
I break bread with the gladdest tears
I’m silly till your eyebrows bust
I’m screeching while my bass-line deserts me
I’m filled with your smiles and rhythms.

“Whatever,” says you.

I’m such a romantic, I confess.
I’m such a cynic, I confess.
I’m wetting my panties, I confess.
I cum a lot, but I digress.

“Whatever, whatever.”

I sigh with big responsibilities,
I jest in the nick of midnight.

You say “you don’t say”.

Dig that bass line that keeps me rooted,
while I’m squawking like a rooster on fire.

(Sunday, 12 November 1995, 2:32 pm EST)

© 1995, 2003 Ralph Dumain. All rights reserved