My black lady quickens my heart Woman of the tropics She brings heat To my cold northern soul With her bubbly swaying hips And her liquid cherry kiss Upon my lips We meet each morning In the same café And I hold her in my hand, making All kinds of plans While the juke box …
Month: March 2018
Wish
All the young people I have ever known Have grown old Not one of them dodged it Their dogs and cats grew old Even faster And that made them cry And grow older still There must be some cease To this constant leaning toward The earth Can’t we call an armistice Neither side admitting defeat …
Jedediah Smith 