Best Crimp Poems

Wipe that silly grin from your face, boy
I am a woman, but certainly not a wimp
Watch me roll with the punches, tough guy
It'll take more...

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there dwells a darkness in us all
          those shadows trembling faintly
     ...

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Don't open your eyes!
          Horrid sounds - screams and scratching,
     an odor...

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A true story.

Here I was,
23 or 24...
Classed an "Executive"
NYC Dept Store Chain,
"Executive" label meant
I could work overtime
For one half of my normal salary...
But a fool...

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They sit there in a glass, looking so forlorn
The old lady was as gummy, as the day that she was born

She ate her food without...

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oh -
prithee, my
darling ...
let me hear you whisper -
mold a heart with
those perfect bows ...
crimp them, coy and parted,
ever-so-slightly -
tenderly puff that
absinthe-sweet breath
upon this delicious
eventide...

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i love you ...
to the cold marrow, i do
beastess of black
the art of you, ritualistic, raw
all your names wrap me, winged and wondrous
tempt me, tepid,...

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My hands caress the curious shapes
And search for hidden cracks and nooks
Like blind men touch a lover’s face.
At last a probing finger hooks

Around the slender...

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It could also be a return to something simple, 
a world of closed loops 
where kinks and corners weren't invented, 
where animals mixed and organelles...

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I observe palls of leaves, drifting on the wind 
       Compelling me to write, but my page keeps going...

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I feel my ears pop,
As the light above me increases ...
Columns of purple sunshine shimmer and dance.
I swim up out of the cool, inky blackness...

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Let us dine on sugar-spun moonlight: 
an exquisite treat that
Fills our bellies and sticks to our teeth,
The nostalgic taste of White Rabbit candy,
Creamily sweet, wrapped...

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Oh Younger Self!

Don’t be behind at saying what you want, 
Just because you never did have the font, 
Regression exists in us if we fail...

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The lacquer, the tease, the crimp, of the hair
as we go out in style, mesh tops with flair
the motley choices of fashion pronounced
by the neon...

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Tiny little waves linger on top of grandma’s pond,
they wrinkle and crimp with each shift of water-
Of this reverie on Lake Michigan I’ve always been...

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