Deep Space, in outer,
Deep Space, in inner,
Let’s go to that DEEP place,
A space-place please, deep, deep, space play!
All of us, lonely to be met on the exact step we are sitting on,
what is this way in which we just want our one-and-only-one to be someone we can look up to,
meaning one step above, and from this perspective, where we are just nervously beneath, we see the beauty of other in the fish-lipped, puppy-dog-eyed beaming sitting just above us. Perpetually, childish.
Doesn’t even matter anymore if it’s a man, or a woman—plenty of male victim’s these days—and so that cute look of animal (can’t be blamed for his/her appetites, it’s what’s expected and/or just normal.
Fuck, skating the issue!
Electric-organs, the gooey grass of saxophone’s, and it’s all just a red-rubber-band of blanket level expansion.
Photo Credit: Joel Filipe/Unsplash
Love the lively word play - A space-place please, deep, deep, space play! - then the kick of the F-word at the end. High impact words, skillfully wrought.
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Thank you, Carol! Love that you came by to read :)
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You peeped into the deep.
I like it a lot - this poem of yours - and had to do this silly addition. Laughter!
Between the prickle and the gooey is the razors blade on which walking can be both exhilarating and a plague.
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Thank you, I very much like your addition :)
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