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Poem Number 137
despondent transient lust for anyone who is halfway nice to look at
skeptical, cynical interminable longing
staring at, no gawking at broads
some who rifle a gander then dart their eyes back to a straight ahead fixture
some who hold eye contact for several beats
until I look away or scare away their eyes
with my sustained, crazed, wanting gaze
some who hazzard not even a peek in my general direction
Enough of this noise! I want to know a girl well damn it!
scruffy mobley shat
cough cough
Commentary:
how bout them apples? anyone, anyone bueller, bueller?
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