The Hots

i got a ghostly
mostly moist handful of you
i got a mind
that's top heavy with you
it spills over with you
leaks you
I pant like a Parisian poodle for you

my baggy saggy heart
is packed to the hilt with you
my soggy boggy parts
pine for you

you told me to go to hell
and i went for a while
but came back
with a picture of you
tattooed all over my eyes
and
there were hot flames
under my hots
for you
also my burning boots
and socks

this day i dedicate
to my loss of control
my needy desperateness
my unrestraint
my ill-advised
madcap
rash and heedless
love

i celebrate you
and the fact
that you don't give a damn for me

maybe you will come around
change your low opinion of me
shoot the breeze with me

so for now dearest
please put down that shotgun

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.