her license plate really said mizifu...
[torrential whisper]
mizifu
chittybang in
her shiny brougham finery
itty bitty biddy mizi mama
decked out
in cadillac
sprawl, elegant
jonah-mama
whale-swallowed in
that thang, she
was a whisper
of torrential
daze gone by, i
pictured her
sweetsweat
glistening on
a dance floor,
not yours not mine
not even your
mama's mama -
the shadowlands be
the one to nurture
her, sliding her,
beguiling her,
gleaming her cross
the bosom's trance.
mizifu
chittybang in
her shiny brougham finery
itty bitty biddy mizi mama
decked out
in cadillac
sprawl, elegant
jonah-mama
whale-swallowed in
that thang, she
was a whisper
of torrential
daze gone by, i
pictured her
sweetsweat
glistening on
a dance floor,
not yours not mine
not even your
mama's mama -
the shadowlands be
the one to nurture
her, sliding her,
beguiling her,
gleaming her cross
the bosom's trance.
Labels: holding the doors
10 Comments:
jonah-mama
whale-swallowed in
that thang
oh that is an awesome boat of a car. Stephen King could park Christine right next to that and they could race off into the shadowlands
i love this "itty bitty mizi mama / decked out / in cadillac / sprawl"! Ain't it so true? the tiny ones love the big cars. And they are so hot on the dance floor...
Dee: I held the biblioteca door open yesterday to this tiny slip of an abuelita, reed thin, who then walks over to the biggest, shiniest black cadillac I have ever seen (it's as big as a whale and it's about to set SAIL!!!); my little red Hyundai was quivering beside it. I wanted to stay and gawk at the launch, but manners got the best of me; instead, I pulled out, saw the license plate, pulled into another parking lot slot and scribbled the poem while she, I assume, ascended.
T: Mamacita in that shiny pimp car, she had to have had some sweetsweaty dance hall nights. Her traveling archive.
This one bangs my doors. SLAM.
Well, Sista San, I'm glad you iz slam-banged. I wanna see that cadillac again.
Gotta admire her style. Yours, too, as always. Me, though? I'm headed for a red Miata. As soon as possible.
Came home from the track and Dale wanted to sit out on the back porch - just a minute gotta grab my notebook. What are you doing he asked? Writing down some bits and pieces while they are in my head. Didn't write the whole thing but the parts were all there and the thought train was moving down the track..
Anno: Red, chocolate (morena), limey, big whale - it's all good. Run for it, girl - and run fast.
Sista D: I believe that. You got the groove on, it don't take long at all. Big gusher in your head, Yellowstone ain't got nuthin on you...
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