Sunday, September 13, 2009

resting on laurels

small silent head rush
twisted restful throbbing pain
he can feel the blood

giants can feel

massive soul and arms
no one can appreciate
somehow he knows it

carpet and drapes

she imagined
wallpaper in his fleshtones
that would warm her up

evening eyes

spent and worn well
she can be your belt tonight
glitter will wash off

fox hunt

leader of the ring
I doubt her ability
but the boys like her


wear a shirt to work
minimum requirement
management meeting