Short Colombian Poems

Headaches cure all 
Colombian, Java… works
Coffee black and strong


By eve roper 11/2/2014...

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before 
i could
finish
her
sticky
bun
she

licked
my fingers
and asked
would you
love some
Colombian
coffee...

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how many Polish
people does it
take to polish
a Colombian
woman's
toes???

i don't
know but
i'm Irish and
Italian so it just
takes one one of 
me and one if her...

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i hate to
because
i want to

stay
awake
for to take

you
by the
hand and

shape
your clay
into a vase

you
needn't be
Ming Dynasty

for you
you please
me just being

Colombian...

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just saying
chianti
makes me
sound 
so
Italian

but instead
of
buongiorno
my morning
is 
buenos dias

wine
replaced by
her
Colombian
coffee colored
eyes

i gave up
caffeine
but will
gladly drink
her cream
and my wine...

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getting drunk
drinking her
fermented sweat

mixed with
a bouquet
of musk with

an aftertaste
unrelated
to anything ever

to touch
my palette
sweet but dry

she's full bodied
with a bite
of cinnamon spice

she goes down
smoothly aged
to perfection

a vintage
Colombian
1994...

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i kept thinking
like Jeopardy
the answer is
the question

so i said who
are you for one
hundred dollars
so i answered and

then asked for
the next but on
the same series
just more money

until i got close
to the five hundred
dollar answer i
questioned

what is
the category
and no sh
it it was

beautiful
Colombian
Muses you
want to

know...

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the power
of my mind
allows me to
shape the clay
made from your
dirt and my tears

confused
thinking i was
using Colombian
marble pressing thumbs
and fingers shaving flakes
and pieces making a stone idol

idly buying 
by using pesos
to purchase that
which valuelessly is
time itself which is timeless
and when finished will sit atop

my 
mantle
a memento
molded not knowing
might what the ending be
in abstract i see her flesh figure

in
mud...

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