Rear Ended
Derriere
please beware
the eyes upon you,
like some great rhythmic metronome
you sway with the tempo
of what moves your engine mentally;
whether be it anger
or the ease of peace,
frustration or a musical grease
that makes those cheeks dance
the war stomp or sashay
with the sultry knowledge
of someone watching you fade
from their focus.
Once infantile orbs
now a pulse calling to
the dog in heat
who watches
from across the street.
Blinddream 06/2012


Salon.com
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