For Thorsten Kaye Poem by Lamont Palmer

Plots come and go, like wild seas stripped of pride.
In the heart of melodrama, life thrives
in various eateries and board rooms and in
beach homes; scrubbed entities harboring those
trapped in the kisses we know are stolen.
Nothing is made up, if the world is
learned; roads to Bikini remain potent knowledge.

Our planned reality; embellished with only
desire, shouldn't be worshipped or despised,
but seen with eyes wary of each twist. Sound
stages turn in a turning world. Lights
sweep monolgues. Martinis are stirred like lust,
when viewers ponder their own latent flaws.