Focal Point

FOCAL POINT should we focus on his nude frame - so muscular, so prominent, private parts an extension of his serpentine scarf or the ruddy lyre, with its cheeky color, plucked by rapturous fingers or the unbridled wildlife, pointed precariously at pulses of vulnerability, sensuous and sadistic the pink flamingo, ready to cobra-strike at his curvy buttocks the king of jungle lore, ready to take his namesake, to render him an eunuch the wart-ridden crocodile breathing on his achille’s tendon, prepared to wrestle him to the ground, as this god-like man’s potency slips away remaining calm, his finger psalm lingers. he waits for the danger to abate perhaps this harp of hell, must continue on and on, unrelenting his suit of flesh, perfectly manicured, never to touch another virgin he bows, his self-erected shame immortal, in pain 10/10/2017 Poems that paint a picture - 4 Sponsor: Silent One