David Nelson Bradsher

(09/06/66 / Raleigh, North Carolina)

The Means To An End


I donned an oddly-patterned bowling shirt,
a pair of well-worn jeans with Rainbow sandals;
she wore a sweater with a pleated skirt
and Gucci bag (with leather-woven handles) .

We matched as well as Scott Fitzgerald’s Eggs,
the East and West, old money/nouveau riche,
but she had breasts, Athena’s sculpted legs,
and, smitten by those parts, I downed her quiche.

It tasted like a rubber egg would taste,
stubborn and ruthless on the untrained fork,
yet not one hunk of blubber went to waste,
and when mimosa called, I popped the cork

and we consumed the nectar of our youth,
a mismatched pair consumed by all but truth.

Submitted: Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Edited: Wednesday, May 14, 2008

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  • Ernestine Northover (3/6/2008 4:31:00 AM)

    Lovely piece, David, I really enjoyed the flow and the fun in this one. Very good indeed.
    Love and hugs Ernestine XXX (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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