Saturday, July 21, 2012

Jean Savory savoried her way
down the dipstick nines,
slave to fashion,
romance novelist of the royal
climes, formulaic
congress after the egress -
a thrifty mess indeed -
back door mamas
in they classic poils,
inching their ways into
the deep ends,
bicameral ration toadies,
casual spelunkers,
situational ethics take a back seat
to page 79,
a mighty hurrah
for petty metals - since
you were asking -
dribble that sauce over
your past tense
the last clime was
roses and tartan plaid,
a carousing tarantella -
page 152 might have
grown an inch or two -
she was ever not when
she was naughty, it figured
gaily into the margins

for error -
grace on 193,
afterwhich aftertimes twas
anyone's guess,
your burden,
his sancho panza
their missing person,
her inarticulate, ghostwriterly, astro-criminal


Blogger anno said...

ok, so Bryan Ferry is perfect here; also, all the clipped short e sounds. Just right for a bite-sized romance: dessert.

1:53 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...


Stumbled across the name of paperback romance novelist Jeanne Savery. Had to spruce up her spelling, but I couldn't resist. Crazy where poems (okay, my crazy poems) come from.

4:35 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

And here I thought you were working on syllabi for next fall and got mixed up with heat stroke!

12:59 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Syllabi? Next fall? Sista T, still operating under the florid delusion of the endless summer!

12:08 PM  

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