Walking Down The Street On All Saints’ Day

  Walking down the street on All Saints’ Day Victrolas on display at the corner store A flirtatious greeting with the local beauty She always smiles, but never asks for more You’ve created another aura within her Casting her as red-blooded in your pulp fantasy A polite lady with those vicious high heels Mental interludesContinue reading “Walking Down The Street On All Saints’ Day”

You Have Your Notions Of Me

You have your notions of meWhether it’s my rugged good looksOr I’m a notorious scalawagThough, I’m neither a hero nor a crook I’m not a man of much persuasionNor am I a wild west outlawI choose to wear the eyepatchBut I’m more of a gentleman with flaws I write fast & love slowWithout a careContinue reading “You Have Your Notions Of Me”

I Can’t Speak To You With An Unbuttoned Blouse

I can’t speak to you with an unbuttoned blouseI can’t stop dreaming about what might beMy eyes drift as I’m quiet as a mouseI can’t help but objectify all that I seeI’m trying to be your gentleman callerMy purpose was to be on an even levelBut you have me squirming a little tallerFalling for youContinue reading “I Can’t Speak To You With An Unbuttoned Blouse”

Sometimes I’m An Awkward Lover

Sometimes I’m an awkward loverI try to slap your ass & pull your hairBut I don’t always have confidenceBut I’m doing my very best down thereBut I can promise you one thing, dearI will love you and only you forevermoreI may be a gentleman at public eventsBut I’ll be your pirate behind locked doors

It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn

It was a one-eyed kind of morn With evening’s festivities going awry I scrawled out all I could remember Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy Slight images of a lovely form Olfactory sparks upon my brain Sketching the party’s guest list But no new faces could remain Racking my skull for a proper memory WritingContinue reading “It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn”

Disturbed Themes & Distant Thrombosis

Disturbed themes & distant thrombosisA hitch in your giddy-up when it’s time for teaTranscendental visitationsFrom dreams may come answers to our makeshift reality Pouring over the brackish tomes with devotionGentlemen & ladies of letters; luminaries of thoughtBut truth doesn’t cure our limited capacitiesBare harbingers of the illiterations we’ve wrought We’ve taken ill in our posh-markedContinue reading “Disturbed Themes & Distant Thrombosis”