JBrower
08-05-2010, 01:46 PM
Revised version, based on tailor STATELY's astute observation (original still below for comparison):
My pet name for her was Sugar-Cain,
but I was never able to focus –
she traipses through the kitchen
buck-naked but for knee-high
striped socks, like candy canes –
to unwrap her sticky, sugar-spun
sweetness. If I could only pause,
stop frying my eggs,
and follow her back to soft
Egyptian cotton and a lazy day
between the sheets - But pause
I will not, my eggs already are
regrettably over-hard and today's
plans cannot wait. She'll go back
to bed without me, strip off her candy
stripes and slide into pajama pants,
wriggle under the comforter, and drift
into more mundane dreams. To her,
milquetoast is murder, her blood
on my plans, so I won't see her
for three months. She's sleeping
with someone else, all her sugar
without my clotted fat, more eggs
frying too long on my lonely stove.
Original:
My pet name for her was Sugar-Cain
but I was never able, with her
traipsing through the kitchen
buck-naked but for knee-high
striped socks, like candy canes
for me to unwrap her sticky, sugary
sweetness, if I could just pause,
stop frying my eggs,
and follow her back to soft
Egyptian cotton and a lazy day
between the sheets. But pause
I will not, my eggs already are
regrettably over-hard and today's
plans cannot wait. She'll go back
to bed without me, strip off her candy
stripes and slide into pajama pants,
wriggle under the comforter, and drift
into more mundane dreams. To her,
milquetoast is murder, her blood
on my plans, so I won't see her
for three months, when she's
sleeping with someone else, all her
sugar without my clotted fat, more eggs
frying too long on my lonely stove.
My pet name for her was Sugar-Cain,
but I was never able to focus –
she traipses through the kitchen
buck-naked but for knee-high
striped socks, like candy canes –
to unwrap her sticky, sugar-spun
sweetness. If I could only pause,
stop frying my eggs,
and follow her back to soft
Egyptian cotton and a lazy day
between the sheets - But pause
I will not, my eggs already are
regrettably over-hard and today's
plans cannot wait. She'll go back
to bed without me, strip off her candy
stripes and slide into pajama pants,
wriggle under the comforter, and drift
into more mundane dreams. To her,
milquetoast is murder, her blood
on my plans, so I won't see her
for three months. She's sleeping
with someone else, all her sugar
without my clotted fat, more eggs
frying too long on my lonely stove.
Original:
My pet name for her was Sugar-Cain
but I was never able, with her
traipsing through the kitchen
buck-naked but for knee-high
striped socks, like candy canes
for me to unwrap her sticky, sugary
sweetness, if I could just pause,
stop frying my eggs,
and follow her back to soft
Egyptian cotton and a lazy day
between the sheets. But pause
I will not, my eggs already are
regrettably over-hard and today's
plans cannot wait. She'll go back
to bed without me, strip off her candy
stripes and slide into pajama pants,
wriggle under the comforter, and drift
into more mundane dreams. To her,
milquetoast is murder, her blood
on my plans, so I won't see her
for three months, when she's
sleeping with someone else, all her
sugar without my clotted fat, more eggs
frying too long on my lonely stove.