Terry Collett Poems

It all boiled down to sex in the end,
She thought, after the gifts and flowers
And the cards sent and the romantic words,
And the showing of affection, and the quick
...

She always had that, Let It Be, album
On the turntable, with him, the latest uncle,
Sitting beside her on the couch or in her bed,
Smoking, making out, and you were told to go
...

There's a better way of digging
Than that, Uncle said, taking the
Spade from your hands and showing
You with a craftsman's touch how
...

That way he had with words,
That tone he could produce to
Make you go weak at the knees.
You remember him; the photograph
...

Baltimore.
Met him there,

beefcake type,
...

They'll say that God had need of her
Before her time,
That angels sought her company
...

Why doesn't he touch
my inner thigh?

She watches him
...

There was one left in the box,
A large chocolate candy, the kind
She liked; but what to do? Pass it
Over to her to indulge and risk her
...

In my head
voices speak,
Ingrid says,
each one suggesting
...

How was it for you?
Uncle asked, lying
Slumped across Auntie,
Some small-beached
...