The Rendezvous
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From the anthology, Complaining to the Clock, a work in progress.
The Rendezvous
He sat in a yellow chair
staring through an open window,
staring to the distant west with lights bobbing
in a shifting sea of emerging fog,
He saw thick black power lines
stretching across the trees out back,
Stretching and reaching like burned out vines
from one tilted tree to the next,
Upon which a fast rat scurried, absorbed
into the silent darkness of an avocado grove.
Pulsating jets fly overhead in the black lusting sky
of night and desire, of dancing slowly in the dark,
with piano music softly playing on a green stereo,
A girl kissing passionately,
wearing the threads of dark Damascus,
with hair curled and perfume applied,
ready for a man’s hungry lips,
and a night of electric touches.
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2019
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