Modern Sounds

we first met. in the flesh.

outside my front door.

(true story) . . . she smiled

when she recognized my satyr

like grin

as i walked toward the red-bricked

terraced-house . . .

her favourite colour, and mine,

flushing hot in her summer cheeks,

a transatlantic flight reflecting

back from tired eyes,

along with something else,

something quite promiscuous,

i saw a little more closely later on,

after we’d sent the cell phone photographs

onto her facebook profile wall,

messaged her sis . . .  back in the States,

kicked off her sneakers . . .

and she handed me Doctor Leary’s book,

before we stripped down shorn of clothes

and wrapped ourselves

inside smooth fresh cotton sheets,

skin-seducing-skin . . .

the rumble of drums

echoing like soft rolling thunder

in the background

of our oozing thoughts

and word play turn on games

 

 

transmitted from the cream twin

speakers

standing on pine table top,

 

 

modern sounds,

downloaded

 

 

onto my old dilapidated pre-

smart phone era

 

 

Sony Ericson

 

  

Reviews

[...]

. fantastic !!! ... thou art the super circa 2011 poet, monsieur ... this is just brilliant written and expressed ... very vivid and very poetic ...