It was SRO
for the poetry show
that featured
a bawdy bard
of a broad.
Her advertised and
anticipated reaction
was to raise
a dead desire:
resurrecting the life
of love with
one part revival
and another
strip tease.
She preferred verse
that was in their faces
which barred no holds
or exotic configurations.
As she recited her poems
the words became
luscious, decadent,
and delicate lap dancers.
The exhibitionist
vulgar vocabulary
slowly slipped off
its pretentious attire,
extending the titillation
and jiggling in the raw.
The audience smiled,
delighted and tightened
with excitement
at the way
the naughty words
shimmied, swayed,
teased and played.
The rowdy crowd
rewarded each poem
with applause,
hoots and shouts.
As they always do,
this night ended too soon.
The listeners left.
Many arrived home
and found a pen
in an attempt
to satisfy themselves.
Still others embraced
their spouses,
whispering about poetry
and love. |