Gone Blonde
brian daly
While you're gone let's
dream about your thighs...
bulging only slightly in the crotch
of your tight black pants.
Chase that hair--long,
lank, and dirty blonde--
across your shoulder blades.
Lock into your eyes, rope
bracelet, chain belt....
You're like a lot of chicks
until you move your lips and
set this boy a-quiver.
* * *
I'd licked the habit of
going where I shouldn't,
being who I shouldn't be.
But since you left
I feel empty always
when the church bell rings.
Please don't treat me
casual like that sap
you play Donkey Kong( with
endlessly. (I'd almost cut
my hair for you, or let it grow.
But then again, I don't know
you--This poemizing
might be worse than
pointless....)
* * *
Say that maybe
we could eat and love--
or better yet,
let's be thin and chaste,
leave food and fucking
to the common people.
Hurry back soon (and
bring some oysters, too.)
