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However Brief, a Meeting in a Nightbox
The crowd is ever jumping
For the music that comes thumping
From her deft fingers; feeling lingers
Loved by saints and loved by swingers
The whole damn world’s a stage
His brand new look is all the rage
We’re only players; say your prayers
The spotlights just love him, through silicone glares
It’s these little chance encounters
(Weak at the knees when ‘round her)
Tempt the tongue; having such fun
They’ll scarce realize that day’s begun
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Comments
Der Sensenmann Says:
"...Loved by saints and loved by swingers..."
I lul'd.
This is pretty nifty. I've noticed that the majority of your poems are swiftly spoken and catchy.
I like this one in particular, it really delivers a spectacular image to the reader.
However... "...silicone glares..."
I don't quite understand how that phrase even makes sense.
Elaborate?