Best Leggy Poems

A Tale of The Last Dance

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Splatter painted, Pollock blessed, leggy I stand,
among the green grass and healing Plantain
in a kaleidoscope of color panned.

A walking canvas in the meadowland
stems, humorously stippled...

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Kinky boots ... 
kicking naked truth
Stripped bare
down to the nightshade roots

Temptress gaze ... 
collecting laundered money 
off the dirty parquet

Her pay-for-play
get the tilted short cups
ice...

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hold still, eventide ...
   I am a capricious cad among wraiths,
     waltzing with a mop in
   ...

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She calls herself Bunny Boucher, but she was born Veronica Chermak. She’s tall and leggy with a body that looks tidy, yet lived in. She’s...

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The Dark

If I were a color, I think I would be pink. 
It is soft and sweet, the smell, the kindest treat. 
Perhaps not…
If I...

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dry white snow rasps the asphalt
attempting to reclaim the purity
of a metropolitan morning

coating the concrete pillars
brushing with tender touches
the grates and allies

dusting the bottom lands
of...

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Acrobats in the center ring
Ballerina bears on balls and bicycles
Cavalcades of clowns with calliopes 
Dancing damsels in glittery corsets and tulle skirts
Elephants parade in wrinkled...

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Wrapped up in a suit of mandarins
playing hop-scotch with 
a hillbilly from Enniskillen
whose left leg is filled with
soot and yellow dust
all wrapped up in a...

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Double G, Grace,
(or Leggy),
was the talk of town
and her legs in black-seamed stockings
were put out in ads
in London's parks 

Women thought of these ads
on the...

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In numerous locales countrywide, they hold sway
Pirouetting at intervals like ballerinas from Bolshoi
Beauteous, feline and very feminine
Slender to the point of emaciation, not quite
Cultivating the...

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Some days were made for legs to rest and do nothing in particular.
Days when lumps of muscle and fat and skin, sway with leggy hair...

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Beyond the leggy palm trees you can hear them calling out 
Through the diffused light and thin curtains called home- 
Are a people in need...

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Each day playing with a girl with hairdresser allure
I live in a blond poem of air, near the timid azure:
Counting the legs walking in the...

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Lanky’s Chronicles

We meet a long-limbed white boy that said his family was owners of slaves.
He was a leggy ole boy and bony angular in his...

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