White sparkle shades grinning
your bell bottoms. Tacky.
Not much of a bulge. The girls screamed.
Slur your lyrics. Me, wishing I had that
guitar to snuggle up with, and she
wants to blow those blue shoes.
Scotty was the star for me as you
rocked the chain gang chorus. Wow!
Eyes deeper than inky ink wells,
and pocks like me; so what,
because those hips shimmy shaked.
Go home now, and swallow what-
ever it is you swallow; drinking
everything in sight. Get fat too.
We don’t care: you’re still cool.
i enjoy this one. reminds me of being at concerts, wishing i were in the singers place...i don't go to them anymore for that exact reason.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
LOVE....the scarcity of words...not overly adjectival....power punches (which I live for - mean as a pittie, as you know) ....