Lori Boulard Poems
Comments about Lori Boulard
My Hot Black Love, Or, Ode To Java
HIS name? Please. What man
among us lives solely for
the touch of your lips
and the “mmmm” that oozes
only if he’s really good?
No, my love is ready for me
waiting patiently for my
Soothing every injury
Smoothing every edge
Offering clarity in a blurred existence
Inspiring me to face my fortune
Mi amor, unlike mi men, judges not
the words of my lips,
travels impeccably well,
and sets my heart’s pace each
and every morning.
and he’s calling my name.
007 Spring Cleaning
It is time. Time for changes.
Time to open windows
and let breezes of inspiration in,
sweep out the echo of lingering laughter,
and wipe away the stains of family, friends
and Shiraz tipped by the fire.
Put to sleep in their albums snapshots
of a time not wasted. Pack up the waste.
Set it out for prompt and permanent removal.