Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Nineteen Spring 2009 |
Blame it on the Sun Linda Lerner she’s the one with Betty Boop eyes interrupts your coffee stained meeting apologizing profusely--- hip hop rarin' to please, shinny apple faced sends you careening into the strutting youth trapped beneath pot bellied years, her eyes riding over your face like soft bells like child’s fingers, and it feel good, doesn’t it, to guide her, I’m young she says with a toss of her head a smile, shining bright sun youth you bask in as during those beachy days ultra violet rays injected the harm it bronzed over, and you golden boy of Brighten summers never felt so good: she is the moment before the sun burns ice cold: burns deadly |
About Linda Lerner |