Radio Smashers
Radio smashers kiss
that boy right.
They don’t linger on
his need for syrupy lovin’.
There is no answer
to rejection
or his grin,
his loosened
passion.
“Come with the intellect
we give to you, boy.”
He leans on my tight grip
of romance.
There is a RADIO
in his
pants. You can try to
follow the wind of sound
but he will never
look beyond the static.
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