Best Swapping Poems

Tell me
how did we get here 
at a swishing swapping party?
(The voices echo in emptiness) 

Bubbly cheerful and happy, naked and raw 
forever bachelors Larry...

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“ANTE BELLUM”


BEIGEBest served where it can’t be seen
On Stirling Silver platters
With redruM narcotics
Delivered by sharp Blood-Red
Well-mannered talons
Strutting in sleek wet rolling tight-skirted
Long French Silk Stockinged...

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I’m lunching with my bestie Mylie
She’s upset and no longer smiley
I ask her what’s wrong
She said in my thong
My bottom is no match for Kylie!

I...

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They’re drawing the curtains in Dorking,
Lighting the candles and pouring the lotions.
Switching off TV’s and shelving resentments,
Checking on children asleep in the darkness,
Creeping  ...

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The west winds of springtime
Brought forth April showers
That rained on the pavements
Of Southwick for hours.

It was standing room only
And full to the brim
As people sought...

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Upon rising, awakened by 
ripening scent teasing my nose, 
trilling my lips and tongue, – my taste buds opening
to bird-like songs as dawn's light breathes...

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You can take back my adulthood
          I don't want it anymore
     ...

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With time on my hands now that I am retired,
To hobbies I have returned,
And I am not disappointed.

I am back into stamp collecting,
Still find it...

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Outside October perches it's little feet
upon summer's fading scenery,
replacing marigolds with mums
and swapping tiki torches
for dimly lit jack o' lanterns,
illuminating midnight
with another seasons mysterious approach

and...

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Branches hanging low

Often touching earth below

Swapping what they know...

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In low tones we chatted
On the steps to her porch,
We talked of the decades
Since I’d carried her torch—

Of love we knew nothing
During young naïve years
Of...

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All the little pieces
Shards of broken flutes and ripped flowers
Of handcuffed hours
Of burning showers
That had gnawed at the soul
Hammering and thrashing the whole
Into pieces of...

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The Spit & Whittle Club
As remembered: by Miracle Man
3-21-2020

As a kid it was always town on Saturday,
horses and wagons dotted our main street.
 Tied to...

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It's a ball and you kick it
Seems simple enough
But it's more than a game
'cos you have to be tough

I'm not talking a buzz-cut
Or some scars...

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It is a witchy tradition to pass down your first broom to
The next generation, but poor dear sweet Mable inherited an eye 
Sore from her...

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