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Celestino's
chicken tortellini
in "salsa di pomodoro"
Roma's golden apples
made pungent with Regiano
when I
for a flesh slipped moment
probed for kisses
in the pink cream
caresses that feed
pellucid wing throb
genitalia
absent vital nectar
rendered tasteless
chewing slowly
like a naughty child
forced to finish
fine disgust
grateful for the less
which is more
blessings that are stored
in the bread and butter
intercourse like your
agreement to sit
there in your cardigan
and cut-offs and talk
the Pinot Grigio
smoothed delicious
by our sipping
it is nothing like
a Rousseau antelope
naked sheen
of muscles played
in airborne savage
counterpoint but
periodic check
and rent paid
how close we were
in a small cheap room
nocturne of breath
and love at any age
how I bought the CD
of Schubert from
that French movie
and played it
my heart flip
at the clear view
up your pant leg
as I lay on hard ground
* meditation
copyright 2003
Ray
Lanthier |
