Thursday, July 24, 2008

Potatoes

One afternoon is all it ever takes,
And they're in love with her. They love her eyes,
Her sweet forbearing smile, the way she fries
Potatoes, crisply, and the way she bakes
Both pot roast and her sweet devil's food cakes,
And, yes, potatoes, not to mention pies.
They eat and sweat, until it's no surprise
They'll beg the girl for more, the hungry fakes.

They say they love her, but I love her hips,
I love her mind, her spirit, every part
From head to toe; I've loved her from the start,
Craving the wicked sweetness of her lips.
They love potatoes. They should leave her tips.
I love her body; I deserve her heart.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Thin Gruel

Without the attitude, without the grin,
Without the power tools you bought last week,
Without the disenfranchised and the meek
On your long coattails, thinking thay could win
(Even survive) without a load of gin,
Without those children playing hide and seek
Among the parked cars over by the creek
Near bat caves, try to reel a few thoughts in.

Try thinking of the thin gruel our souls get,
Almost enough for us not to get sick,
As green and tasteless as it isn't thick,
Remember how the old poor aren't rich yet,
And think of those executives you met,
Then tell me whose heart burns the thinnest wick.