vagantes
08-04-2009, 05:11 AM
I grew up, surrounded by tall chimneys;
One, in particular, filled in the sky
As I looked up with my back against soft, red brick,
Full of summer warmth. On such a night
My friend Malkie climbed to the top.
He married a girl with the softest breasts,
Down whose blouse we all had dabbled.
Her nipples, brown and tender,opened up
Like the eyes Polidori wrote about.
Malkie's an old man, now, and she's
A wizened crone with flaps of useless flesh
(A souvenir of the surgeon's knife).
Women still stand on these street corners,
Selling themselves to lonely dreamers.
Down the prom they marched. On their left
The purple sea prinked in the afternoon sun.
Old men, their voices weakened by disease,
Rambled on about the glories of time past
While a woman, her voice croaking with passion,
Was booed off the platform by those she was defending.
The banners spoke only of the rights of men.
One, in particular, filled in the sky
As I looked up with my back against soft, red brick,
Full of summer warmth. On such a night
My friend Malkie climbed to the top.
He married a girl with the softest breasts,
Down whose blouse we all had dabbled.
Her nipples, brown and tender,opened up
Like the eyes Polidori wrote about.
Malkie's an old man, now, and she's
A wizened crone with flaps of useless flesh
(A souvenir of the surgeon's knife).
Women still stand on these street corners,
Selling themselves to lonely dreamers.
Down the prom they marched. On their left
The purple sea prinked in the afternoon sun.
Old men, their voices weakened by disease,
Rambled on about the glories of time past
While a woman, her voice croaking with passion,
Was booed off the platform by those she was defending.
The banners spoke only of the rights of men.