The strangest thoughts pop into one's head while doing yard work.
In his inky cassock, or this spider on
The sheet?" "I have to say, the spider,
Dear." "And, now, when it is crushed
And dead?" "It twitches still, and,
Anyway, I doubt that there's a pervert
Near. What would make you ask me
That?" "A stab at idle conversation."
"Wide of mark. We've talked enough.
Let's slide between these sheets."
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 12 times
Written on 2013-06-17 at 21:27
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An Idle Afternoon
"Which do you revile more, the pervertIn his inky cassock, or this spider on
The sheet?" "I have to say, the spider,
Dear." "And, now, when it is crushed
And dead?" "It twitches still, and,
Anyway, I doubt that there's a pervert
Near. What would make you ask me
That?" "A stab at idle conversation."
"Wide of mark. We've talked enough.
Let's slide between these sheets."
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 12 times
Written on 2013-06-17 at 21:27
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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