- Erotic Poetry
- Beggar's Brattle
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Click hereClanging and banging such noise in my head,
Ballroom filled with sweating bodies dancing on water.
Deadwood dunes of destructive living,
Horny cat raises her tail, screaming to be screwed,
What the fuck, just another bitch in heat.
Hank Williams’ daughter sings the blues,
New life strumming on the bent wood guitar. . .
Lessons learned from a dead relative.
Wandering spirits of musician passions,
Generations swing full circle.
Bodies move faster,
sweating blood of their past,
taking care of business.
Futon auras, musty smells of lust.
Always here, even when your not.
Legs spread, as the Bluesman dives deep
Will I ever say no? Hope not!
Sitting over a hole drilled in ice,
Pole, line, water, no fish
Heated heart, isolated
Singing the beggars brattle.
dlt © Feb. 20 2005
- COMMENTS
sandspikeabout 19 years agoYou have been busy, out of the a cheap motel room and now in
the street. I love the nasty energy here. This is a
busy read that works up the reader. Don't think of me as
a beach bum anymore, after this read I'm becoming a bluesman.
Bill Dadaabout 19 years agoI don't think that I have ever read a poem that made me feel like the music of a steel guitar and fiddle was caressing my crotch. I gave it a 100% because it reads like thats what you gave it.
Bill Dada
