Monday, April 25, 2005
Nothing Is Simple
A woman friend called me tonight from her bathtub,
she wanted to drive over & have sex, watch some TV
& get home by midnight. I said, not now sweetheart,
I'm playing along with Mozart on my kazoo (actually it was just
tissue paper & a comb), & I really need to rinse some socks,
& then I'm having coleslaw & canned ravioli. Or maybe
a frozen pizza. How about tomorrow night? We can watch
that new show about the soccer mom who sees the future
in her dreams & her husband is a real jerk. She said
she couldn't do it, she had a job down the shore
installing a dry wall in a chiropractor's office & probably
wouldn't get home until after 8 o'clock.
What a coincidence, I said, I'll also be down the shore
taking blood samples from a pod of dolphins
that mysteriously beached in Asbury Park
on the exact spot next to Casino Pier that local legend
has Wendy going down on a young Bruce Springsteen,
inspiring a song originally titled Born to Hum.
I'm sure we'll be famished when we're done, let's
meet for drinks & sushi at Martell's Tiki Bar.
Labels: poem
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"If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." Thomas Jefferson
If I had the choice between sex and tinned ravioli - I know what I would have chosen - I hate pasta!!!!
Luv from your cousin!!!
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Luv from your cousin!!!
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